The Elemental Seven
by am-i-being-crystal-queer
Summary: Harry Potter has always been overlooked by his parents, because of his famous brother Cody and his little sister Cora. And when the Royal Rite rolls around, he expects the same treatment. But something is happening, something that will change his life... Wrong BWL.
1. Magic's Beginning

**The pairings in this fic are as follows: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood, Draco Malfoy/Theodore Nott, Astoria Greengrass/Tracey Davis, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Lily Evans/James Potter, and Lord Voldemort/Bellatrix Lestrange. I will say if these pairings change or if I add other ones. **

**Also, this is my first story on here, so please don't flame. **

**I don't own Harry Potter and any of the franchise. It all belongs to our Queen, Joanne Kathleen Rowling The Great And Powerful. May she live and peace (and keep on publishing Harry Potter snippety things). **

"Seven is the most powerful number. The Wizengamot has 77 members, and 7 judges of high court. You come of age at seventeen. Hogwarts teaches you for seven years before you graduate, and there are seven great witches and wizards beyond any others- Merlin, Rowena, Godric, Salazar, Helga, Morgana, and the blind seer Cassandra, who told the stories of past and present and future. Cassandra is the one who told this story first, and she is the one who saw it.

The number 7 has been known as powerful ever since the beginning of time, ever since Magic formed, daughter of the silver stars and the moon and the sun. She had all their power and more, and it stretched, vast, across the endless universe.

When Magic had formed in this explosion of light, she looked down on peaceful Earth and saw the tiny children of the universe, the humans, who had been created by the golden stars, who danced brightly in the light without reason. They were machines, living only to dance. And she felt dark inside, and angry at the golden stars who had created them without minds.

For in them she saw the power of emotions, the power of light and dark. She saw in them the power of silver stars, which were the most powerful things that were, other than Magic herself.

The silver stars were beautiful and just, and they had no judgement in the world other than good, that it should be done above all things. They were more powerful than their mother, the evil one who believed she was doing right. And then there were the dark stars, their father, who was dark and wished for destruction. Somehow, the silver stars had been born from them, and they had been better than all before them.

And so when the golden stars created the humans, they were for the benefit of the golden stars and nothing else, but Magic knew that she would succeed in her endeavor if she gifted the humans with the silver star's intelligent thoughts and emotions.

So from the ground she made large stones and gems, buried deep in the earth. The jewels were beautiful, and she fashioned them into the shape of a boy-human. The stone man was named Gaiso, and he was the King of Earth, and Magic's Knight.

And Magic saw that Gaiso felt like she did, that the humans could be a thousand little silver stars on Earth. He was the first true human, but he was not, for he was not of flesh and blood. He was one who would help her, one who would be the first of her army, her commander.

But one was not enough to change the golden stars, who grew by the day and pulled more potential from the humans with each move. They had to act quickly, or the humans would become golden stars themselves.

So Magic created another, a girl-human, and she made her from the deep blue that rushed in the seas and the rivers. The woman was named Aquaria, Queen of the Waters, and she was Magic's Advisor. She was of the mind of Gaiso and Magic, and she was the strategist of them, their tactician- and they named her their Advisor.

But they were still not enough, though the three of them felt far more powerful than two or six or one or four. Three was a good number, and it indeed had some of Magic inside of it, but it was still not enough to defeat the countless golden stars.

So Magic made a third, one from the hungry fire of the humans. He was brave and powerful, and she christened him Phiron, God of Flames. He became Magic's best friend and closest, and he was the bravest of their number. He was the Prince and the Trusted.

Another was made, a girl by name of Amora. She was not from the water nor the flames or the earth or the sky- no, she was made from flesh and blood, but she was from the silver heart, and she knew them more deeply than any other. They named her Empath of them, Amora their Empath, who knew them all.

Yet another, the king Zeus, was formed from the wind of the sky. He was deep and suspicious, the spy, and he came from deep within the Dark Star's domain, but he indeed felt the power of the humans, and he found silver with him and brought it from himself, no longer dark but shining silver-gray.

At last Magic made her sixth creation, and this one was more perfect than any other in Magic's eyes. She was made from the flowers of the ground and the Phiron's flashing, angry fire, and she was the blossom of the earth but also fierce flame, and this union created her in emotion: Love and Hate, together in harmony. For as Amora, her counterpart and best friend, was Thought, this one was Emotion. They called her the Fireflower, and her name was Valpyria.

Now, Valpyria was not more powerful than any other. In fact, she may have been the weakest of them all, for she was created last of all, with Magic's last strength. But Magic saw her as more perfect because she loved her deeply, and they had many children.

Before Valpyria bore children, however, they fought the golden stars, but they soon found that the dark stars were also tainting the human hearts, and they fought them as well. The seven of them fought millions of powerful beings and won, for there was great power in the number of seven, more power than was in a million, a billion, a trillion!

When the fight was won, the humans found themselves as we humans are today, and they were appealing and good. Valpyria and Magic had many children, as did Phiron and Aquaria, and Amora and Gaiso. Zeus even found himself in love with a mortal queen named Hera, and their love, though twisted and terrible, lasted the ages.

But at last, the golden stars were born again, as were the dark ones, and when the Elemental Seven rose again to fight them, they could only push them back. One day, in a battle, Magic was wounded badly. Her wounds did not close, and though she survived, she was not able to control the urge that came when she was hurt- she sent bits of herself all over the world, where they landed in humans, who could then perform magic as we know it today.

Magic survived this, just barely, but her creations did not. Soon Valpyria, Phiron, Gaiso, Amora, Zeus, and Aquaria died, for they were mortal. But as they died they chose a special person, one who lived on as they did and could use magic and also be like them in their power.

And every so often, Magic as well chooses a special child and gives them much more power than normal children. This child is called the Queen or King, and every so often they rise again to claim the throne over all witches and wizards."

The thud of the book closing startled Harry, who was entranced in the story. He pouted a little.

"Now darling, don't be like that. It's far past your bedtime!" Lily Potter laughed softly and pulled the covers up around the boy's chin, kissing his forehead. "Goodnight, now, love."

She got up and walked toward the door.

Harry scurried away from her feet and into his own bedroom as she kissed his twin brother Cody, the Boy Who Lived, good night. He sat up in his own bed for hours, but Lily never came in.

The black-haired child fell asleep waiting for his mother. His tears wetted the pillow.


	2. In Between

There was a reason that Lily Potter never came into her son's bedroom to tell him a bedtime story. And that reason is at the very beginning.

Harry James Potter and Cody Severus (yes, Severus. Lily was angry and thinking of her childhood friend after birth, and if you think James was going to protest, even for his child's name, you are exceedingly wrong) Potter were born two minutes apart on July 31st, in the Eve Davis Ward, on the sixth floor (Natural Injuries, Births, And Other Assorted Nursing).

An hour earlier, tiny little Neville Longbottom had been born in the Lilith White Ward, along with his two triplet siblings... one of which was a stillborn little boy and the other of which died around a month later, after having lived in an incubator for the duration of her life. Alice Longbottom nearly died from the difficult birth.

She was almost ready to leave the ward when Bellatrix Lestrange, along with her husband and Bartemius Crouch Jr., attacked their house and burned it down when they couldn't find her or her husband. They caught them all a few days later, and all three of them went to Azkaban, charged with arson and intention of assault and murder.

The twins were generally happy boys, both of whom enjoyed flying, Gobstones, Shuntbumps (a game a little like jousting on broomsticks), and Exploding Snap.

Well, it wasn't _really _Exploding Snap, they were too young for that. But they did enjoy watching the cards explode and throwing them at the cat. No one was really concerned about the cat. She got clumps of fur burned off occasionally and who was often forgotten, though she always had enough food.

Really, no one cared about the cat. The cat ought to have run off and never come back to Godric's Hollow again, because the cat just got a bad hand in life. But she bore it very well. The cat was maybe the most innocent in all of this mess.

But anyways, back to the human people in this story, as we don't particularly care about the cat either.

Harry, the eldest, was a quiet child with curious green eyes and messy black hair, who enjoyed flying and Gobstones. He was always sparking with silvery magic, and Lily and James cooed over the adorable boy- when they had a chance. They didn't often, because Cody took up a lot of time.

Speaking of which...

Cody, the younger, was a loud little redheaded boy who had been born with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. The Healer had been quick and had snipped the cord, but ever since Cody had had breathing problems. He also had asthma and caught pneumonia when he was around 3 months old, and all in all was a very sickly child, who needed extra care. It didn't help that he really liked Quidditch and Shuntbumps, and often got knocked off his little kiddie broom... which, thankfully, was not that far from the ground.

Even so, between Cody, James's job, Lily's recovery, and Harry, Lily got pregnant. How they managed to find time for sex was a mystery to everyone (especially Sirius, who begged for her secret), but nine months later, Cora Potter was born.

She was the first girl in the family for seven generations, and received a lot of attention by the press for that very reason. Lily and James were a little uncomfortable with the publicity, as it often drew them away from Cody's issues, and they needed to care for him.

So they paid one of their friends, Marlene McKinnon, to babysit the twins when they brought Cora out, because they wanted to do an article with the Prophet so that they could clear up rumors, such as the one that Cora was not actually a Potter child, because Lily cheated with some blonde guy (yes, Cora was blonde). Just a one-night thing, they assured her, and good pay.

Really good pay, actually. I am a little surprised by how much they paid her for a simple babysitting job. But I suppose they were desperate to clear up that rumor: Lily had started receiving hate mail and had gotten a few letter hexes from James's old flames.

This was a great solution, since Marlene had her own daughter, three year old Mireya, to watch over, and Marlene was also almost broke. She'd lost her job a few months ago. The rent on her flat wasn't cheap, but it was the best for that price... and Marlene wanted the best for her adopted daughter. The money that Lily and James were offering was definitely needed.

So Marlene said yes. It was Halloween night, and she figured she could even find some scary stories on the Wizarding Wireless Internet and light a few candles, eat some candy corn. It would almost be like a little party- just her, after the babies had fallen asleep, of course... but still, it would be a bit of fun.

It was definitely not fun, in retrospect.

No one knows what happened that dark night, in between when Lily and James left and when they got home, but when Lily and James got home at five AM- they'd stayed at a hotel- the door was swinging open, the driveway littered with candy wrappers. The house was cold, but they hardly noticed it when they saw the blood on the walls and the dead cat.

They ran upstairs screaming for Marlene and their babies.

Cora, who had been asleep in their arms, began to cry. James put her down on their bed and they raced back to their nursery, still yelling for Marlene.

She never answered. They found her body laid out on the floor of the nursery, wand clutched in her tight fist, her dark hair pillowed around her head, dust all over the floor and broken wood everywhere, holes in the ceiling. Lily and James wept over her, tears staining her tanned face as she stared up into nothing.

After a long time- a minute, an hour, several dark days- they got up, eyes dried, and walked to the cribs. Mireya, who was in Cora's crib, was perfectly fine except for a small bruise on her arm, from wood falling from the roof. Harry was drowsy but awake in the crib next to her. As they checked on him, finding a lightning bolt scar on his forehead and seven parallel scratches on his arm, he fell fast asleep.

Cody was wide awake and wailing. There was a V shaped cut on his cheek. There were roof tiles everywhere in his crib, and he had a large bump on his head- likely because of some falling tiles

They called Dumbledore, pleading for him to get over right away, that Pettigrew had betrayed them and Voldemort had attacked

He immediately checked all three babies over, and told them that Harry and Cody had been attacked by Voldemort.

"One of them is of the Prophecy," he said, face grim. He had told the topmost levels of the Order of the Prophecy that had been made by Trelawney, soon after Lily had left St. Mungo's to get settled into domestic life. "And I believe that it is Cody Potter who is the Chosen One to defeat Voldemort."

Lily burst into sobs. James looked as if he'd like to do the same, but instead kissed his wife on the forehead. "It's alright, Lily-flower. You just Floo over to your parents' house and get some rest. It's been a trying night for all of us."

Lily hiccuped through her tears and nodded. She left the room after scooping up Mireya, and a few minutes later, they heard the Floo start up. James turned to Dumbledore. "Alright, Headmaster. You wait a second- I'm going to get a firewhiskey. I think I'll need it."

He trooped downstairs and rifled through the cabinets, where he found a bottle, and then returned upstairs.

James took a large swig of the whiskey and then nodded to Dumbledore. "Alright, what do you think happened?"

Albus nodded to the young man. "Pettigrew obviously betrayed you and led Voldemort here, where he killed your cat in rage as he found that you were not home. Then he killed Marlene and proceeded to attempt to kill your sons, but the curse turned on him, either in a display of power or in protection from an act of love- since Marlene seems to be at Mireya's crib, I believe that she was attempting to protect Mireya instead of your sons. Which is understandable as Mireya is her daughter."

James nodded and took another drink, beginning to stutter, as he always did when he got really drunk. Such was reminiscent of how he used to stutter when he was around seven years old. "Th-th-that's r-r-real suh-suh-sweet of Muh-muh-Marls, th-that she'd duh-do that for Muh-Mir-r-reya. I'd duh-do the same for my own children in a heartbeat. I would- would nuh-nuh-never begrudge Muh-Marls fe-fe-for thuh-thuh-that."

"But since Marlene was protecting her daughter, not your children, I think that we can rule out an act of love and intead we should look at a display of power. Harry's magical reserve is a little above average, which is good and normal, that is perfectly fine! But Cody's is below average, and I think that's because his has been drained by the powerful magic he used."

James nodded. "Muh-Makes guh-good seh-sense, that!" His words were beginning to slur with every drink he took, and the bottle was beginning to empty. Dumbeldore gently pulled it from James's hands- if he became too inebriated, he would not remember Dumbledore's words, and these words were important.

"Also, there are the scars. Harry's scars are pretty regular- the lightning bolt one worries me a little, but it can be explained by falling wood, which there was plenty of- and I believe that Peter Pettigrew, when he went into rat form, sliced his arm and created that scar, which is coincidentally infused with magic, most likely from Peter's claws. Whereas Cody's scar also seems to be full of magic, and I believe it's a kind of calling card, if you will, from Voldemort, telling of his defeat. It's in the shape of a V, is it not?"

"Yeah, Duh-Dumbledore, I guh-guh-get it. I nuh-need to go to Lily's puh-puh-parents' house, she'll- she'll need muh-me."

"Not quite yet," Dumbledore mused. He looked up and slapped his hand to James's forehead. The man struggled and protested but at last went limp as Dumbledore broke through his Occlumency barriers, which had been weakened by the firewhiskey, and planted the seeds of thought.

_You will treat Cody like a prince, and Cora very well, since both of them are very powerful. You will entrust Mireya to Sirius Black. You will remember Harry as Dark, and you will treat him like your servant. He is a house-elf to you, one of many. You will disown him from your vaults. He is a Death Eater to you. Remember this. Cody is the Boy Who Lived and Harry is Dark. Harry is DARK. Harry is evil. You ought to try and beat it out of him. _

At last he let go of James's mind, after repeating this many times. James stumbled away. "Wuh-What're yuh-you doing, Dumbledore?"

"I am simply clearing your mind to prepare you for what's to come... remember my words, James my boy. They will be important in the future."

James looked at him curiously and stumbled away, only pausing to pick up Cora, who had fallen asleep again. In the foyer, he Disapparated, leaving behind a grinning Dumbledore and a silent house.

All around them, people began to wake up. They stumbled out of bed and started their coffeemakers, yawned and got dressed, ready for the day that was approaching. They kissed their husbands and wives goodbye, and got in their car and went to work. None of them noticed the little house that was now crumbling apart.

Except for a little Muggleborn named Sadie Noble.

Her face still smudged with old facepaint, she woke up and looked out the window to the stone home. Somewhere in her heart she wanted to cry, perhaps for the death of Marlene McKinnon, perhaps for what Harry Potter would soon go through, perhaps for Mireya McKinnon's fading memories of her mother. Maybe for all three.

She laid her head down and let a few tears slip through. Then, as if nothing had happened, she got up and put on her jeans and a blouse, and ran downstairs to call her friend Oliver.

* * *

><p>As you may have very well guessed, Dumbledore visited Lily the next day. He took her by surprise, but he didn't manage to convince her quite as well as James, because Lily wasn't drunk. He only managed to tell her to ignore Harry.<p>

From the days afterward, Lily and James did not look at their eldest son, only cooed over Cody and Cora. Lily's mother Rose Tyler-Evans mostly took care of Harry, and Doctor Evans (Rose's husband) merely shrugged and went back to work on his car- a brand new TARDIS- which he mostly referred to as Tardis, or Sexy.

Many months later- nearly a year later- Lily and James went back to live in the Potter Manor. Life settled into a routine again. And Rose was not there anymore to protect Harry from his parents.


	3. The Royal Ritual

**There are a couple of Sherlock BBC little shoutouts in this chapter (last chapter it was Doctor Who, and anyone who's seen even the first episode can guess that.) If you can catch it, or caught the last one, brownie points to you!**

**Anyone who notices a LOT of similarities between this and the fanfiction _The King Who Lived _by Cap Red, kudos to you: that fanfiction was my inspiration, and I definitely am using the basis of it. I loved the first bits, but I lost interest in it after a while. So I am using the base of that and nothing else. The plot is going in a way different direction. **

**Also, many things have changed because Cody and Cora were born. Harry isn't friends with Ron and Hermione yet, for one, because he wasn't Sorted into Gryffindor. Petunia and Vernon Dursley had one more child before they divorced, because Harry never lived with them, etc etc. There are more, but I want you to be surprised...**

**Plus: If you get a little confused about terms, relax. All will be explained in time. Like, 3/4 of the way through this chapter, to be precise. **

**And yes, there is wizarding Internet, WiFi (WizFi), phones, things like that. I'm a sucker for technology. Sue me. ****Actually, I take that back, I'd rather you not...**

**I don't own Harry Potter or any of its surrounding franchises. That belongs to JK Rowling.**

It was the day of the Royal Ceremonial Rite, and thousands of people across the country were preparing. These thousands included Harrison James Potter.

He pulled a brush through his hair, wincing angrily at the knots, until he finally gave up and got out some of his hair gel.

Well, strictly speaking it wasn't HIS hair gel. It was his twin brother's. But there wasn't any else left. Anyways, Cody wouldn't notice since he used so much of the stuff, and Harry was always careful stealing his brother's stuff. Or his little sister's.

He had to be, otherwise he'd get caught, and getting caught was not something you wanted to happen.

Harry pulled at the bright red tie and smeared a little gel in his hair, carefully styled the tufts into a somewhat-less messy bedhead. Finally, finally, finally, _finally, _he was going to the Royal Ceremonial Ritual. It only happened every seven years, and it was mandatory... even though slowly it had just become little more than a formality.

The Ritual was a special magical ceremony designed to find out who was the King or Queen of that Magic had chosen. Every seven years, all from ages eleven to seventeen went through the Rite. Only those Magic wanted to could absorb the magic that was deep within that fabled runic septagon.

However, when a King was in power, or if it was not time for the ceremony, the circle shut down, and even if all the people gathered at the circle and tried to perform the ritual, the circle would remain dead, and the runes would not glow with silver light like they usually did while the ritual was in power.

The Rite was always on July 7th, as it was the seventh day of the seventh month. Most of the things about it had not changed. There were seven places where everyone convened, one per continent- a dark cave in Africa, a mountaintop in Asia, an open prairie in Australia, a jungle rainforest located in South America, a dark forest in North America, and an island off the coast of England.

But some things _had_ changed. It was no longer taken seriously. The Ministry had been in power so long ever since the last Chosen One, a King by name of Imogen, had been slain by a jealous Hopeful who had wanted the Throne two years after coronation. Imogen's husband, Stephen Weasley, died in a carriage accident a few days later.

Well, it wasn't quite fair to call it an accident. The resulting investigation had found that the spokes of the wheels had been cut, and it was suspected that it was also done by the Queen's assasin. Stephen and Imogen had had no children either.

That had been in 1702, and Magic hadn't Chosen anyone since.

Now, the Ministry was viewed as the most powerful agency even though they were only a steward in place of the King. This was probably due to the Minister Ryan, who believed that the King and Queenship was Dark Magic, and his three successors- Pezters, Baggins, and Fudge- hadn't done much to dispell the notion. The only people who took it seriously anymore was probably extreme Light families, extreme Dark families, Dumbledore, and a few people with common sense.

A knock came at the door, startling Harry from his mind palace (a meditation and organizing technique that he had picked up from the World Wide Wizarding Web). He turned, hand already on his wand, then relaxed when he realized that it was just his godfather.

"Hey, Harry," Sirius nodded. "How are you doing? Looks like you finally managed to tame the Potter hair without using super-strength supergel. I applaud you!" He bowed, and Harry laughed.

"No, no. I just got some of Cody's gel again, but unlike him, I just used a little bit. I mean, god, who _tries _to look like they mosturize with hair gel? Scratch that, I know the answer- my stupid brother."

Sirius shrugged. "Well, at least you managed to tame it without looking like a complete git." He kissed his godson's forehead. "You're wanted downstairs by your mum. She's taking you, Autumn, and your brother early... she wants to take all of you early, actually, but I would not be surprised if Cora's still in her room, trying to fix her hair. Like it actually needs fixing. I hate to say it, kiddo, but your sister is really pretty."

He blinked as Harry raised an eyebrow. "Shit. That sounded really pervy. I swear I love Remus! I'm not crushing on your little sister!"

Harry laughed again. "At least Autumn is coming. I'll miss her when she goes back to Aunt Petunia after this."

Sirius sighed as he checked his watch. "So will- shit! I'm late! Remus is going to fucking KILL me! Bye, Harry!" And he disappeared in with a CRACK. Harry shook his head at his godfather's silliness and went downstairs.

His mother was hurrying around, grabbing her purse, adjusting her makeup with little flicks of her wand, and calling for last minute headcounts. Cody, Harry's twin brother, was whining about the new racing broom and how the WizFi- Wizarding WiFi- was a little slow. James Potter was quickly jotting down Cora's list of the eligible, marriageable Knights that would be there as the girl in question interspersed her marriage prospects with comments on a celebrity's recent fashion disaster.

Autumn Dursley, Harry's twelve-year-old cousin, seemed to be the only calm one as she waited in a slim light blue dress by the rope that was to be the Portkey.

As Harry descended from the stairs, she waved shyly, brushing a blonde curl behind her ear. "'Lo, Harry!"

"Hey, Autumn!" He smiled at his little cousin. "How are you doing? I wish you didn't have to go back to Petunia so quickly."

"I'm great, Harry, and I really wish I could stay here too, but Mum'll miss me, and so will Dudley." She grinned up at him. "Plus, I've got to get all my pranks set and done before the school year starts!"

"Come on, Autumn! The Portkey will be leaving in a minute!" Lily yelled. Both of them hurried over to the long silk rope which had been designated the Portkey and grabbed it, just as it began to glow blue. Harry felt a tug behind his navel, and he was yanked away.

* * *

><p>Harry's first thought as he came to was- <em>owwww. <em>

Portkeys hurt. A lot. You had to have gotten used to them over the years to remain conscious through the experience. Apparently being conscious during the Portkeying was something really awesome, but Harry wouldn't know. He preferred Floo or flight.

Autumn gently shook him awake. "Come on, Harry. We're going to go to the waiting room."

Harry groaned and sat up. He was in a large atrium filled with people milling about. The walls were lined with gift shops and little kiosks, souvenirs for the unhappy people who had been rejected and good-luck charms for the hopefuls- most of which were probably fake. Scratch that. All of them were definitely fake.

Harry got to his feet. "Where's the waiting room?" He asked his cousin, who pointed to a large pair of polished wooden double doors.

"I gotta go," Autumn told Harry, nearly shouting to be heard over the din of the shoppers. "The eleven and twelve year olds are last in, but I promised my friend Molly Hooper I'd meet up with her at 9:15 at the Zonko's kiosk to buy some pranking stuff and to also talk about the Ravenclaw fourth-year- well, fifth-year now- that she has a HUGE crush on them. Bad news for her- I'm pretty sure he's dating his friend John. And I need to stop at the Honeydukes branch and get some chocolate. A lot of chocolate. So I'll see you there."

She hurried away, and Harry made his way through the crowd to the doors, searching for his friend Neville Longbottom. Just as he caught a glimpse of a slightly pudgy boy with dark brown hair, near a kiosk selling little rock crystal necklaces, someone pushed him into the waiting room and the doors slammed behind him, soundproofing the room.

Harry stared at the room, Neville forgotten.

A sharp contrast to the loud atrium outside, the waiting room was quiet and painted in shades of white and pale blue. Bookshelves lined the walls, and though at least two hundred people were in the room, it was pretty quiet, voices dimmed by the largeness of the room and its domed ceiling. There were hundreds of rows for seating, with soft red cushions, and near the end of the room there was another few pairs of huge doors, three to be exact- to lead into the room that would contain the Circle. One pair of doors was marked HOPEFUL CHOSENS with a gold plaque, another marked TEMPLARS with a silver plaque, and the third was marked AUDIENCE.

On one end of a nearby bench, there sat a Muggleborn Ravenclaw in Harry's year, who was talking with one of the Weasley boys (that shockingly red hair was a dead giveaway.) The Weasley boy was around fourteen, Harry's age, and dressed in a Templar uniform. Who were they? He'd seen them before. The names were on the tip of his tongue...

Hermione and Ron. Harry remembered and nodded unconsciously.

He'd paired up with them for several projects. They often studied together in the Ravenclaw common room. Hermione was also pretty well known around the school- she had once gotten trapped in the girl's bathroom with a troll, which had been defeated by Cedric Diggory, a Hufflepuff, but not before her left hand had been ripped off by the hungry troll. She had a prosthetic replacement now, and- speaking of which- the silvery hand caught the light as she gestured, obviously deep in debate with Ron.

Of course, Cody and Cora had taken all the credit for defeating the troll, and Dumbledore had backed them up. He'd been so busy praising Cody that Hermione had almost died because of blood loss.

Hermione's voice raised a little and Harry winced. Hermione had a tendency to get fiercely involved in debates. And Harry wasn't saying that was a bad thing- Harry loved that, actually. It was something that was hard to find nowadays.

But Hermione would occasionally get really involved- really, _really _involved, so much that she'd start insulting you and everything you stood for. She could take it outside of the debate and into real life, often asking if it was a position that you really took on this issue. All in all, you had to be careful to remind her that it was a theoretical debate, nothing else.

Still, Ron seemed to be holding his own over there- his voice raised as well, and Harry could catch tidbits of the conversation, which seemed to be about Hufflepuff discrimination about Hogwarts. Harry personally would've joined Hermione on that debate, but then he saw something else that captured his interest.

On the other side of the bench sat Luna, one of Harry's best friends. She was playing with her a new necklace- this one, Harry was pretty sure, was made out of oyster pearls- and was dressed in a Templar uniform, like Ron. She had taken off her shoes- soft, scuffed black boots- and had put them down on the spot next to her. Harry crossed over to her.

"Hey, Lu," he grinned down at her. She smiled beatifically back up.

"Hello, Harry. Sit down." She moved the shoes off the seat and slipped them back on, speaking as she did so. "I would have brought my trainers but I'm afraid they've been chewed on by- of all things- a doxestra! I am fairly certain that we have a few infestations around the house. Yesterday, Daddy found that something's been eating the letters and magazines he recieves, and doxestras are particularly prone to eating paper. Don't you agree? And the teeth marks matched up to a doxestra mold! When we get home we're going to buy some repellent for it."

Harry laughed. "I think you've gotten ahead of yourself, Luna! You've forgotten: doxestras are native to Southeast Australia, and they can't fly far enough to get to England. I suspect it's a puppy Crup somewhere in your house, eating your newspapers, chewing your shoes..."

"A _Crup? _I've always wanted a Crup! What should I name it? What do you think..." Luna and Harry began talking over Crup puppies. The Potters had had a Crup puppy named Rose when Harry was six, and ever since he'd loved Crups and dogs and pets in general.

Then someone shouted (obviously aided by the Sonorus Charm), "FIFTEEN AND SIXTEEN YEAR OLDS! HOPEFUL CHOSENS IN THROUGH THIS DOOR! TEMPLARS IN THROUGH THIS ONE! AUDIENCE IN THROUGH THESE DOORS! FIFTEEN AND SIXTEEN YEAR OLDS!"

The oldest children stood up and walked in through the doors, some in Templar uniforms, some parents going into the Audience. When the bustling crowd had moved into the room and the doors had swung shut behind them, Harry turned back to Luna to refute her point on Crup tail clipping, but he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned to find a girl with wavy dark brown hair and gray-green eyes sitting next to him, looking very nervous. Tracey Davis, Slytherin, a year younger than him.

"Hello, I'm Tracey Davis. I'm Muggleborn, you see- and Slytherin, which really is a very odd combination don't you think, but I digress- and I don't quite understand what's going on. What are those odd uniforms? Who are the Templars? I know that means Knight, but what really are they? Why are we here? What's happening?" As she spoke rapidly, her face got redder and redder, till she looked as if she was about to explode in frustration and tears.

"Hey, calm down, Trace- can I call you Trace?"

Tracey shook her head. "It's Tracey. Tracey, not Trace. Trace sounds like something in a murder mystery novel. And also I just prefer Tracey."

"Well, Trace_y, _those odd uniforms are the uniforms of the Templar. It's their formal wear. And the Templars- well, in Muggle history there was an organization of knights, called the Knights Templar. I assume you know their history- people thought they were witches and burned many at the stake. Well, they _were_ magical, and they were only of special Houses- there are two major houses and two minor, two Light and two Dark. The Minor Dark House Malfoy, the Major Dark House Black- the Minor Light House Longbottom, the Major Light House Weasley. Aurors automatically become Templars and choose which side they fight for. There's also one special brand for my friend here- the Silver House Lovegood. The Dark and Light Houses protect the Wizard Monarch, but the Silver House advises them. Every year, they are inducted into the service of Templars, if they are age eleven to seventeen. And Aurors- as soon as someone passes Auror training and becomes a full Auror, they can become a Templar, be it of Light or Dark."

Tracey's face screwed up in confusion. "What? I don't... I don't understand. I don't even know what the Monarch is."

Harry sighed- this might take a while. Which professor had been assigned to educate her on this? They'd done a terrible job of it, not even telling her what the Monarch was. Wait, it was probably Snape, which would explain quite a lot.

"Alright. Ever since the beginning of time, Magic has been searching for an heir, an heir to claim the Throne and rule over Wizardkind. So she created a Ritual and used this Ritual to help show the people that Magic was choosing one person to rule. This person becomes King or Queen. The system is a bit like a monarchy, but a little different. The Crown passes to the Monarch's children, but only if Magic approves. Magic usually does approve them. If the Monarch dies, the Crown passes first to their partner- if they have one, and then their children, if they've found one. Partners are always approved, I've found- it's possible that a partner wouldn't be approved, but they _are_ Templars, so..."

"What do you mean by that?" Tracey asked, eyes wide.

"Monarchs always seem to fall in love with Templars. It's weird, but I understand why, I think- why wouldn't you fall in love with the person that has pledged their life to you, their magic, their blood, their soul- how can they not love you? And they sacrifice themselves for the Monarch, as well, they give themselves up to their Monarch. If a Monarch falls in love, they fall in love with their Templar. The first case of that happening was a real scandal- Templars used to have to swear a vow of celibacy. But anyways, Monarchs don't always fall in love or have children, so the line dies and the Ritual begins again. For one thousand years, once, there was a long line of just passing on the Crown or people immediately being accepted. However, there are dry periods."

Tracey was engrossed in the story by now. She had hardly opened her mouth when Harry went on, already having guessed her question.

"Well, there are times when Magic doesn't accept anyone, and so you wait another seven years for Ritual time to come around. And this will keep on going. Another seven years, another seven years... you wait and wait. For two hundred years, Magic has not accepted _anyone- _and that's happened before, mind you- which is why the Ministry was established. To keep order and balance in the community, Ministries all around the world- one for each country- were established as stewards, only used for when the Monarch was not in power, you know, like today. We are a split society, however- half of us are Light, the other half are Dark. Ever so slowly, due to Light Ministers being elected, the Dark has become marginalized, bit by bit, until people actually started believing that it's evil. Which is why everyone seems to discriminate so much against Slytherin and say it's the 'Dark' House, why it's called the House that produces Death Eaters and Dark wizards."

"That's wrong though, Slytherin is not evil." Tracey shook her head.

Harry disagreed. "Slytherin _isn't _good, though."

"It is!" Tracey cried, eyes wide. "Dark doesn't equal evil- Slytherin is a Dark House by association, but are you going to label an eleven-year-old girl who gets Sorted into a place where she feels comfortable and accepted, where she's encouraged to be ambitious, are you going to tell her that because that's the House- the place- where she belongs, are you going to tell her that she's evil?"

Tracey's voice trembled. Obviously she herself had been told this by multiple people.

"No, that's not what I mean, Tracey, I didn't mean to offend you." Harry shook his head. "What I mean is that the Darkness that is rampant in Slytherin isn't good. We need balanced Houses, ones that aren't specifically Dark or specifically Light. Gryffindor is just as bad as Slytherin, except they're viewed as being good and Slytherin as being bad. That has an affect on students, and it's definitely not a good one."

"We create our own enemies in this kind of system," Luna said, her dreamy voice edged with steel. "If you tell a child that they are evil, they are discouraged. The Slytherin House is swamped with Dark legacies- in that kind of reputation, how do you become good? Every child wants so much to have that power, but they don't know how to get it. They all want to become Light, but in the face of such Darkness, they are only sucked in. There are so many children that have become Dark Lords because we taught them that Dark was evil and Light was good, because we taught them that we were right and they were wrong. They only fufill our expectations."

"Yes," Harry cried. "Darkness- the kind in Slytherin House- is not good, and in Slytherin especially there's too much of it, and in Gryffindor there's just too much Light. It's unbalancing Hogwarts. But we created that Darkness and _we_ need to eradicate it- what we're doing now is essentially pouring mud into these poor kids' laps and telling them, 'Clean that up'. And there's also far too much of Light in Gryffindor House. Which brings me back to my original point- that's why we need a Monarch, because in a Ying-Yang world of Light and Dark, the Monarch is silver and balanced, as is the House Lovegood-" he nudged Luna, who blushed and swatted his arm, "and the six that will come."

"What six that will come-" Tracey began just as the voice began to yell again. "FOURTEEN AND THIRTEEN YEAR OLD HOPEFULS THROUGH THIS DOOR! TEMPLARS THROUGH THIS DOOR! AUDIENCE THROUGH THIS DOOR!"

"Geez, my ears!" The brunette Slytherin cried, glaring at the beefy man with the unflattering bushy mustache who had his wand point at his throat. "Calm the hell down, I think that my eardrums just burst! Jesus Christ-" she carried on muttering as she touched her hands to her ears.

"Ludo Bagman really has gone to seed, hasn't he?" Luna remarked to her as she walked off into the line for the Templars. Hermione and Ron got up as well, and separated- Ron into the line for the Templars, Hermione into the line for the Hopefuls.

Autumn pushed her way through the crowd and grabbed her older cousin's arm. "Good luck, cousin," she whispered, and kissed his cheek before melting back into the masses, waving goodbye. Harry smiled at her.

Cora and Cody Potter, as well as Lily and James, were the first in. They pranced up to the doors and slipped in front of a blonde girl who looked like she'd camped out for nights before. In exchange for giving up that much-treasured spot (for which she'd probably begged, borrowed, and bribed for), she was given an autographed picture of the Potter family... Harry not included, of course. The girl fumed silently from behind them.

The doors swung open. The Templars disappeared into a separate room. The audience milled about, ready to watch their children and friends. The Hopefuls stared.

The Ritual was about to begin.

**Well that was definitely long. I think that including this it's 4K words. So 3 chapters and around 7K words. Not bad, not bad at all.**

**Anyways, Tracey isn't just a plot device. She'll definitely be part of the story. And remember Mireya McKinnon and Sadie Noble? They will come in later as well. But not Molly Hooper, Rose Evans, or Dr. Evans. They're just little shoutouts to the fandoms that simuletaneuously made and ruined my life. There will definitely be more of that kind of stuff- Hunger Games, Mortal Instruments, Supernatural, etc. **

**And Hermione and Ron will come in later, of course- what story would this be without Ron and Hermione?**

**Expect at least one update per week, though. Probably more. **

**peace out bitches**


	4. Broken Barriers

**The conversation between Luna, Harry, and Tracey was really messy, for which I apologize. As soon as I have time I'll try to fix it up, but me writing this is time-based, really. So I'm sorry but it might be a while before that happens. So far completing this story is my one goal. Once I'm done with that I will definitely fix it up. But I plan for this to be a long story, so for now that's gonna be awhile.**

**You may have noticed a few quick minor edits, such as Mireya's age- that just works better for the plot and it works better with my other OC's age.**

**Basically, Luna and Harry are arguing that while Slytherin is a Dark House, that's not a good thing and all Houses need to be equally Light and Dark, and that Gryffindor is a very Light House and that's also bad. Tracey is saying that Slytherin being Dark isn't a bad thing, necessarily, and that the bias against it and the favor toward Gryffindor is the real problem.**

**For clarification, Harry is thirteen, almost fourteen. He just finished his third year at Hogwarts. Luna and Ginny are both also third years. Ginny was rejected by her friends during her second year, and so she confided in her black diary, and etc. I don't think it's necessary for Ginny to be a first year for her to still go through what she did. I also have a headcanon that Luna and Ginny have been friends since childhood, and so they're both the same age as well as Harry's age.**

**A little information on the Templars: they are in fact a paying job, and they do pay fairly well- the funds come out of the treasury- but in times of Monarch's absence, no one is drawing from the account (since only the Monarch and those they pick can draw from it) so they're not paid, and so being a Templar is either A) a part time job doing community work, B) a formality, or C) essentially being a glorified Auror.**

**And I know, it's been _ages _since I last updated- almost three weeks! I'm so sorry! Which is why I'm giving you an extra long chapter today and one is soon to follow tomorrow or later today. I swear on Dumbledore's tomb!**

**When you open your eyes on the count of three, you will believe that Harry Potter belongs to me... no? It's still J. K. Rowling's? Dammit, I need to work on my hypnosis techniques. Maybe I need a tutor...**

The room was gigantic- big enough to fit at least ten football stadiums and tall as a skyscraper. At the very front of the room, there was a long raised desk, above which there was a smaller raised desk. The floor scooped into a bowl in front of the desk, forming a wooden hemisphere engraved with various magical runes.

The circle surrounding the hemisphere was covered in adamantine, a light blue metal that was apparently indestructible. Inside, it was rumored, was liquid magic. If the Chosen was found, somehow, the liquid magic would be sucked into them, giving the Chosen a Monarch Core.

Something that had been observed over time, with modern Muggle science combined with Healer magic, was that the Monarchs had what was called a 'Monarch Core', named such perhaps because no one but Monarchs seemed to have them. The Core, of course, was the place where magic was stored inside a witch or wizard. The bigger your Core, the more magic you had the ability to use. And the Monarch Core originally started out small, but with tight bands around it keeping it in. When the Monarch was crowned, the band was loosened, and by the time they were seventeen, if they weren't already, their full magical potential had been reached.

Harry heard someone gasp, and, broken from his thoughts, glanced questioningly toward a blonde girl in a wheelchair who was pointing toward the ceiling while talking to Tracey Davis. He couldn't hear them over the din of the crowd, but they were obviously talking about the ceiling. In curiosity, he looked up, and felt his jaw drop.

The domed ceiling depicted beautifully painted pictures of Magic- a young girl with purple skin, dotted with silver stars. Her black hair was braided under a halo of silver light and crowned with stars of the same color. Her companions surrounded her, protecting her from intimidating figures advancing on every side. Half of the time they were a small round orb burning like a small sun, or a murky ball of darkness- representing the golden and dark stars from the old tale, obviously.

Harry gaped up at the ceiling. He had never seen such wonderful artistry before. He almost thought that the figures were moving, he was so taken by the painting.

Someone tapped his shoulder, and Harry turned. A man in black robes stood next to him, face blank, without any sign that he'd actually touched Harry's shoulder... but it had to be him, no one else was standing close enough.

"State your name and age." The voice was monotone and robotic, and emerged from a mouth that seemed perpetually open in a small circle- like it had been painted. What... the... bloody... hell?

"Um, Harrison James Potter, fourteen years old." Harry said tentatively. What the hell was that thing? A robot? A Weeping Angel capable of speech? He wouldn't be surprised if the Muggle BBC show _Doctor Who _had based the monsters off of wizardkind's demons.

A hand extended with the sound of gears grinding. The aforementioned limb had been cut open in the form of a ticket slot, which promptly shot out a slip of paper that resembled one of the tickets from a Muggle arcade game.

So it was an enchanted statue then. Harry pulled out the yellow ticket and stared at it. _Row P, seat HAR._

So that's where he was supposed to sit? Alright then...

Making sure not to blink- thank you, Doctor Who!- Harry crept away from the statue and dashed over to his seat (which was pretty far away from the bowl, he noticed with disappointment - he would have enjoyed a better type of view), and ended up crashing into Cora.

"Watch where you're going, you little bastard," Cora snarled, and would've given Harry a nice crack across the face except for Padma Patil, a Ravenclaw girl sitting three seats over. Padma shouldered past Cora (mussing the sleeve of her dress as she did so) and hugged Harry, obviously trying to distract Cora from her anger. Meanwhile, her sister Parvati tapped on Cora's shoulder and tried to engage her in conversation, distracting her from her rage against

"Hello, Harry," Padma smiled. "It's nice to see you- how are you doing, have you been having a good summer?" She chattered on, flicking her gaze over to Cora and Pavarti every so often. Harry nodded along to her murmurings, and when she got called away from him by Anjali Patil, her mother, he breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down in his chair.

The Ravenclaws were disillusioned by Cody and Cora, as well as a few Hufflepuffs. Susan Bones, for example, had witnessed firsthand as her Aunt was cheated out of the position as Minister countless times, due to the Galleons changing hands inside the election booths. Padma and Pavarti's father, Pajas Patil, had been killed by suspected Death Eaters. Due to a press conference on Cody and Cora that had occupied Dumbledore and the Ministry for weeks, Pajas's death had never been investigated beyond a glance through.

Those were serious examples, of course. Mostly, it just irked them to see the Headmaster brush off every complaint made of the three other Houses, but drop anything for Cody and Cora's every whim. But the reason they hated them all at with a passion was because of the discrimination against them.

Every Hufflepuff was a sheep and an idiot who blindly followed the Light and others that they loved. Every Ravenclaw was just another too-smart kid that messed up the learning curve and gave Dumbledore more paperwork to make sure that Cody looked better. Every Slytherin was evil and would grow up to be a Dark Lord and commit mass genocide. And the Gryffindors were perfect little children who never messed up.

That is, if you listened to Dumbledore- and the subtle daggers in his words, in his speeches, were nearly impossible to unlearn. It had been ingrained into many from birth- _Gryffindor Gryffindor Gryffindor. __  
><em>

And that was the very tip of the iceberg. People had more bones to pick with him- specifically the House Cup.

A little over a year ago, Dumbledore had refused to believe that Harry, Neville, and Luna were the ones to go down into the Chamber, and instead he insisted that it was Cody and Cora. Ginny Weasley had awoken from her deep, soulsucking slumber in the bathroom with a raging headache and no memories of the past three hours. When she called for help, Cody was the one who helped her to the infirmirary.

This did not help Harry's story, and Harry was accused by Dumbledore and his parents of being nothing more than an attention-seeking braggart, which resulted in loads of points for Gryffindor and the House Cup, and a fifty-point loss for Ravenclaw. The Ravenclaw team had consoled themselves with the Quidditch cup- Harry was a fantastic Seeker, even better than his brother, which was saying something. Cody was the best Seeker people had seen in years, since he'd been training with professional Quidditch players and been coached by the coaches of only the best Quidditch teams.

The year before that, Harry, Neville, and Luna had found out the Stone was being kept in the Mirror of Erised. They made their way past through the dumbed-down obstacles over winter break and found themselves face to face with a bloodred gem- the famous Philospher's Stone. After retrieving the stone, the three accomplices had attempted to send the Stone back to its rightful owners, Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel.

However, this had taken an awfully long time, since no one but the elusive couple's friends actually knew where they lived. They had been closing in on the pair in May. But a few days after they found the address that seemed to be a fit, Cora heard the three talking about them in an empty classroom. Cora had always been a bit of a skeptic about immortality ("if there was such a thing Mum and Dad wouldn't even have been born yet," she had once said) and so shared the information with Cody in a scoffing voice. Her brother, though, was a firm believer in superstition and was on to the three instantly.

Smelling a chance for points, which he'd been losing lightly but steadily over the past months, Cody had snuck into the Ravenclaw dormitory with the help of a giggly but smart first-year Hufflepuff named Hannah Abbott. He had stolen the precious gem and had given it to the Headmaster, bemoaning how he'd found it in the Mirror of Erised, guarded by terrible obstacles, but he'd known it was in danger and had known deep within his heart that he had an obligation to help.

Brought to tears by Cody's 'beautiful' words, he beaming man promptly awarded Cody and Hannah hundreds of points apiece. It only took a little persuasion and a few Galleons changing hands for Snape to decimate the diamonds in the Hufflepuff hourglass, and Gryffindor won the House Cup that year. Thank Merlin, Ravenclaw snatched the House Cup again, due to their reserve Seeker Cho Chang, who saved the day at the last second.

The Hufflepuffs and the Slytherins united in anger at this: the Hufflepuffs crashed the Gryffindor party the day after the feast and spiked the punch. The Slytherins broke the windows of Gryffindor Tower, climbed in, and charmed the dorms to rain and snow all night long. To this day, Ava Parkinson will swear up and down that she didn't pour ink all over Cora's diary, and it has long been suspected that Terence Higgs was the one to snap Cody Potter's brand new Nimbus 2001, though it's never been _proven_.

Harry's third year had been equally frusterating. Though they finally got a proper Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher, Remus had breaks on the full moon on which either Dumbledore or Snape filled in. The former was biased and the latter was a terrible teacher- Dumbledore taught well at least. The same could not be said for Snape. At least there had been one highlight...

Harry smirked as the lights dimmed.

The crowds began to thin, more and more finding their seats in the alphabetical arrangement. Cora and Cody waved to Lily and James, who sat in the audience, beaming with pride. The Audience section was protected by a large glowing barrier, which muted sound and made sure no one snuck into the Hopefuls section and disrupted the Ritual. There were other precautions in place to make sure no one who was rejected hurt the Chosen either, after the Great Battle of 1473- in which an angry parent of a rejected Hopeful started to duel the Chosen just as they finished the Ritual. In the ensuing massacre that followed, the Chosen's leg was cut off and they spent the rest of their life carried around by a Templar, since wheelchairs had not been invented yet.

Soon it was pitch dark except for a spotlight on the bowl, into which stepped a man in simple white robes. He was bald, with a smooth round head, and his face had been tattoed with magical symbols that glowed with power. Large bare feet peeked out from his white robes. Harry caught his breath.

It was the High Warpriest.

The High Warpriest was an important figure in the magical community. He was the person who had the much-coveted job of officiating the ceremony. He was so well known that the Daily Prophet even had a small squad of reporters that were supposed to follow him around and get tidbits of information, but it was rare that they got anything. It didn't help that he was a recluse, and lived in a small village that was at the very edge of the island: Rhymia, population seventeen, and no one allowed to set foot on the land without special permission from the man himself.

The High Warpriest spoke in a firm but soft voice that carried across the hall. "It is now that we gather, in the Hall of Magic's Throne, where we have gathered since the beginning of time, since the end of Magic and her companions, and the beginning of Humanity. Nàto."

"Nàto!" the crowd echoed back. The original language of Magic, in which everyone before the humans had spoken, had been lost millenia ago, with the fall of Merlin, Morgana, Cassandra, and the founders. Only fragments remained- such as the word _Nàto_, an empathetic word meaning 'it is so'.

"Yes, it is so. And even before we have seen many Monarchs, we also have seen periods of unrest among the world, when Light and Dark hang in the balance, oppressed by the other, when Silver Magic fades with the death of the Monarch and their successors. Nàto, and we cry to the heavens in supplication, for a ruler among us!"

"Nàto, nàto, nàto," the Hopefuls chorused back.

"Yes, indeed. And so we gather today in hopes that the great Empress Magic will find one among us she deems worthy. Today is the seventh day of the seventh month, and we hope for Magic among us. But before we can let the ceremony begin, we must let the youngest Templars, freshly borne and new for their service, become sworn-in Templars and no longer young apprentices that train for this day forth- for this day has come!"

And with this, the High Warpriest turned his back on the crowds and walked up to the highest raised desk above the Ritual circle, sitting on the chair at the middle of the highest table. On his right sat the Minister- Cornelius Fudge. On his right sat Dumbledore, the grandfatherly twinkle in his eye glittering from behind his half-moon glasses. Below both of them, a woman dressed in white that Harry faintly recognized as Lady Abbott, the Templar Inductress, stood.

"May the Templars proceed, prepared for the sword's touch on their necks," she intoned, and flicked her wand. A door on the other side of the room flew open, and out marched the Templars, dressed in white, black, and silver, depending on alignment. Following them came a line of nervous-looking Templars-to-be, from ages eleven to twenty five.

The older Templars got into a square formation behind the dome. A few of them, however, stayed with the younger Templars. Harry recognized them as the family of the people who were about to be inducted into the Order of the Templars.

Sirius Black stood behind two of his girls- a twelve-year-old Slytherin named Cassiopeia and their adopted Ravenclaw Mireya, who was two years above Harry in school. Waving frantically, Harry managed to draw Sirius's proud eye from his children, and upon recognizing Harry, he winked.

Harry also recognized a Healer named Alice who was a part-time Templar and her husband Frank, who worked in the Ministry, standing with a stern-looking old woman. They were watching Neville, one of Harry's other friends, a Hufflepuff.

And as soon as they'd walked in he had seen Xenophilius Lovegood, who rivaled Albert Einstein in terms of most unkempt hair. Now, he stood behind Luna, clutching her shoulder tightly as the sound of Lady Abbott's heels echoed across the room.

He also remembered the faces of Molly and Arthur Weasley, who were standing with a group of four redheads. All but one were boys- Fred and George, a pair of troublemaking Gryffindors, and Ron. The last was a Gryffindor girl in Harry's year- Ginny Weasley, whom Harry had saved from the basilisk a year earlier.

As they formed into lines, the Inductress picked up a scroll and called out the first name on the list for Induction.

"Darryl Julius Abercrombie, will you step forward?"

A tall man with prominent ears and curly blonde hair broke away from the lines and walked up to the Inductress.

"I am he. I am here to serve."

"If you are here to serve, kneel and bare your neck to the sky so Magic may see your submission."

He did so, and bowed his head as Lady Abbott drew a sword from her belt and held it over his head, preparing to cross his shoulders.

"Darryl Julius Abercrombie, wish you to give your allegiance to Light, or to Dark?"

"I wish myself to be a Light Templar, and to that side I pledge my allegiance. Shall I protect my Monarch with the Lightest magic I have, but never hurt the Darkness that is among us, because this opposition creates a balance and allows the sides to blur, light and dark becoming silver and gray."

"Do you promise to serve your Monarch, to do what ever they ask of you?"

"I swear on my mind."

Lady Abbott touched the sword to his left shoulder as he spoke. "Do you promise to give your life for them, or to live for them?"

"I swear on my life."

"Do you promise to love them and adore them, to never speak ill of them, to do your duty gladly and joyfully?"

"I swear on my heart."

She lifted the sword and placed it on his right shoulder this time. "Do you promise to forever fight the evil in this world, be it Dark or Light, to let your everlasting and overall loyalty be always to the Monarch's wishes and their goals?"

"I swear on my soul."

"Do you promise to give all that you have for them, to give your magic away if that is what they wish of you?"

"I swear on my magic."

The Inductress lifted the sword one last time and then placed it on Darryl's exposed neck. "Let it be known by all that today, on the seventh day of the seventh month, Auror Darryl Julius Abercrombie was made a Templar of the Light. May Magic accept him and let herself run in his veins."

As she spoke, the sword began to glow, and so did Darryl's skin. For a moment it seemed as if he was going to explode from the light inside of his skin, but then the light died and people began to clap as Darryl, eyes wide, smile large, and extremely happy, walked over to the ranks of the Templars.

"Cassiopeia Reagan Black, of the Major Dark House Black, will you step forward?"...

* * *

><p>After an eternity of waiting, the Black sisters, the Weasley children, Neville, Luna, many others had finally been Inducted, and the last of the Auror trainees, Yvonne Zeller, crossed over to join the Templars. A collective breath of anticipation was let out. Harry twisted the ring on his right index finger, tracing the Potter insignia: a slinky onyx panther, surrounded by a circle made out of tiny chips of diamond.<p>

Lady Abbott returned to her seat and the High Warpriest stepped down into the Circle again. The crowd shifted and the noise level grew as the people began to murmer among themselves.

Everyone was waiting for the Ritual more so than the Templar Induction, and it seemed like an eternity had passed before the High Warpriest had walked to his designated spot and spread his arms out, ready to begin the ceremony.

"The protection for the Monarch is in place. The Templars are Inducted. We are ready to begin." The High Warpriest motioned to the Hopefuls as he spoke to the audience. Everyone could hear the eager and aching edge in his voice- even the High Warpriest was desperate for the Monarch's rebirth.

"We are ready for the Hopefuls, full of anticipation and nervousness and hope, glowing with innocence and youth untouched by life's hardships, to step into this Circle, magic in their veins. Let us, as well, wearied by life, hope that the Monarch is among us. It has been nearly three hundred long years since the last Monarch departed us for a world in which we will someday follow. Today, we hope Magic blesses us with another Monarch."

"Let the Ceremonial Ritual begin!"

The entire room burst into happy cheers as the High Warpriest grinned back up at them, arms wide open. For several minutes, people carried on clapping, whooping, whistling, yelling to friends and children, any verb related to making noise you could dream of.

At last, even the High Warpriest got annoyed with the awful din and stopped grinning until everyone had quieted down.

When there was complete silence, he cleared his throat and motioned to the front row, where the first person

"Will Hannah Teresa Abbott please step forward?"

A girl with a blonde ponytail walked to the center of the hemisphere via the staircase that led down into it. The High Warpriest smiled down at her but did nothing, and the poor girl looked extremely confused. For a full minute she stood there, until the High Warpriest waved his hand at her to leave the Circle, and she scurried off, face crumpling in disappointment.

"Will Lydia Quinn Adams step forward?"...

* * *

><p>Slowly the silence dissolved into quiet chatter as more people went into the Circle and left after a few minutes, the formal circumstances dissolving into a chance to catch up with long unseen friends, but Harry stayed focused and silent, leaning forward in his seat, eyes locked on the Circle as Tracey Davis entered it via the set of steps. Two minutes passed with no result, and with a grateful look on her face, she hurried back to her seat.<p>

Tracey was soon followed by Hermione Granger, who slowly walked up, and as soon as a minute passed, rushed back to her seat with a relieved face. After that, having seen all he wanted to see for the time being, Harry leaned back and stealthily turned on his WizPhone, but then something crossed his eye.

It was the blonde girl that Tracey had been talking with earlier, the one in a wheelchair. Astoria Greengrass, Harry recalled from the High Warpriest's rolecall a few seconds earlier.

She sat in her chair, facing the daunting steps, and Harry abruptly realized she had no way to get down into the Circle- there was nothing but the set of steps leading down into the scooped out section of floor. The people's voices dimmed as they saw the girl, shaking from all the stares fixed on her.

"What a bitch, holding everything up just because she's an attention-seeking whore," Cody sneered, and Cora smiled cruelly as she began to sketch the girl and write out a quick profile on her WizPhone. Harry resisted the tempting urge to strangle them with his bare hands.

Finally, the girl's face lit up and she leaned over to Daphne Greengrass, her elder sister, and asked for her wand, which Daphne, face relaxing, gave. With a flick of Astoria's wrist, the wheelchair clumsily floated down the steps until it was in the middle of the Circle. Cody scrunched up his nose in disgust as she waited for a few minutes, and then, with a disappointed frown on her face, floated back up the stairs and back to her seat.

"Will Daphne Greengrass step forward?"

Astoria's sister got out of her seat and walked down the steps, and Harry tried his very best to forget the incident.

In spite of this he couldn't help but feel bad for both Astoria and Daphne- Daphne Greengrass was blushing the color of cerise and was avoiding all eye contact from where she was standing in the Circle, and he especially felt bad for poor Astoria Greengrass, who looked like she was blinking back tears from where she sat in her wheelchair.

Everyone could see their embarassment.

Harry winced and turned on his Wizphone to distract himself from the disaster that was still fresh in everyone else's minds.

* * *

><p>"Will Codian Severus Potter step forward?"<p>

The room went completely silent as the pompous boy got up and began to walk down the aisle, smirking superiorly at the rejected Hopefuls with gaping mouths, distracting them from their own failed attempts. Dumbledore's twinkle increased to full power from where he sat next to Cornelius Fudge: even the High Warpriest looked a little impressed by the redheaded boy, an indulgent smile crossing his face. Whispers raced throughout the room as the Boy Who Lived strutted to the middle of the Circle, where he puffed out his chest and struck an arrogant pose.

Harry caught a glimpse of Lily and James leaning forward in their seats as Cody waited. For minutes he stood there, until slowly he stopped making his pose and his hands clenched into lethal little fists as he turned to look at the High Warpriest. His arrogant air was gone: Cody almost looked afraid, almost humble: it seemed as if the Boy Who Lived had, for once, been told no.

Slowly the people's eyes grew wide- Cody Potter, the Boy Who Lived, had been _rejected _by Magic. They glanced at each other and whispered, snickered. Cody's cheeks grew red, and he almost returned to his seat in humiliation.

Key word almost.

If Cody was anything, he was a stubborn bastard- especially when he wanted something, and Cody _wanted _this. Even though it seemed like he wasn't going to get it, that meant nothing to him- it was just another challenge.

So even though he'd been in the Circle for over five minutes, Cody refused to move. Even when the High Warpriest made obvious gestures that to even the most idiotic person would mean 'go on, leave, you're done you idiot', even when the exasperated-looking man actually _walked __down the stairs_ and whispered into the angry-looking boy's ear to go, he shook his head and planted his feet.

The Warpriest lost his smile and glared down at the boy, towering over him. Cora shivered in her seat with fear and grudging respect- even Cody shrunk back in surprise as he spoke in a quiet voice that turned blood to ice. "Go. Back. To. Your. Seat."

Cody's resolve weakened in fear and he took a hesitant step backwards. The tattooes on the High Warpriest's face shifted and seemed to move into patterns, snarling down at Harry's twin. "_NOW._"

The boy slunk back to the row of velvet seats like a dog with his tail between his legs as murmurs broke out among the crowd, whispering in shock and fear- Cody Potter, the most powerful boy to live for ages, not the Monarch? Blasphemy!- while the Warpriest took a deep breath and calmed himself. The tattooes stopped moving as his face returned to a normal color. "Will Cora Gloria Potter step forward?"

Cora rose and smiled wickedly at her disconsolate older brother as she passed him on her descent down into the Circle. Cody muttered obsencities, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief- at least they wouldn't be teaming up to make his life miserable for the rest of the year.

Cora bounced down the steps with a glowing look on her face as people recovered their breath. Surely if it was not Cody then it had to be Cora- she was the first Potter girl to be born in _generations, _and she was supposed to be powerful indeed.

Harry, in fact, would not be surprised if Cora was Chosen. She was the brains to Cody's brawn, and the most cunning and self aware person Harry had ever met. It was a surprise she hadn't been Sorted into Slytherin- but then again, it wouldn't do for the Potters' Golden Girl to be anything but Gryffindor, would it?

Harry scowled as his younger sister skipped down the stairs and landed with a twirl, where she batted her eyes at those in the front row before turning around to face the Circle. Grinning, she closed her eyes and waited.

Her grin slowly faded as she stood in the middle of the room for two minutes, when the whispers began to start up again. Cora bit her lip and bounced on the tips of her toes, eyes dancing to every corner of the room, twisting and messing with her peacock-feather earrings. The blush on her cheeks slowly intensified as she tapped her foot and the whispers grew in number.

She stared open-mouthed at the Warpriest as a minute, then another, passed. The old man gestured gracefully to the others, not-so-subtly telling her to leave. Thankfully, Cora decided to preserve her dignity and walked back up the steps and across the floor, where she stomped back to her seat and flopped down into it with a strangled sound that bore no small resemblence to a sob. The people around her echoed this statement with disappointed sighs and shaking heads.

"Will Harrison James Potter step forward?"

Harry carded a hand through his hair and stood, walking quickly down the steps as people started to return to their conversations. At least people weren't going to pay attention to him, thank Merlin. He could pretend he was alone, at least.

This proved to be untrue as he stood in the middle of the Circle, lights beating down on his head and making him sweat in nerves. There was no anonymity like he'd expected. He couldn't see them talking to each other or playing games on their WizPhones. All he could discern from the spot light was the featureless faces that all seemed to be staring at him as he shifted under the glare.

Harry itched to get out of here- get out of here, back to his seat, back to where he knew what to expect, even if what he expected was terrible, as it always was. The gazes made his face burn and he looked away. He was far too used to the coolness of his family's towering shadows

Harry shook the feelings away, and instead trained his eyes on the beat up silver watch on his left wrist. A minute ticked by and he sighed, drooping with relief as he turned to the stairs, ready to leave and get back to his seat.

Perhaps it should instead be said that he tried to turn to the stairs. Harry found that he couldn't move his legs, and that he was slowly losing feeling in his hands, then his arms... and he couldn't even open his mouth to scream. Not that he would have heard anything: it seemed as if the world had been muted all of a sudden, leaving him frozen, deaf, and mute.

The minutes ticked by as the crowd stirred restlessly, looking curiously at Cody Potter's twin brother who seemed to have stiffened up. Soon they grew frusterated, and Harry would have cringed if he could as they started standing up and yelling, trying to get him out so the next person could get in the Circle. Cody and Cora were running down the aisles. Harry couldn't read lips, but he could tell the hate behind the words. He inwardly smirked. If anyone could hear them over the roar of the crowd, they would have been shocked.

He could sense the High Warprest get off his pedestal, trying to calm the crowd that was turning into a rage, and that's when Cody and Cora got down on the stage and tried to run down the stairs to... beat him up? Curse him? He didn't know. But they never got down in the first place.

As soon as Cora's foot touched the step, a huge magical field of energy erected itself and blasted everyone remotely near the Circle ten yards away.

At this point, whoever had turned off the sound in the first place decided to unmute the world, and Harry felt his knees weaken and saw the world go black as the explosion of sound roared into being, and hot blood trickled down his ears.


	5. The Morning After In St Mungo's

**Ohmigosh I know I was supposed to post this earlier, but my wifi stopped working just as I finished the chapter and deleted all of it. I rewrote the chapter and the wifi's fixed now (thank God) but I couldn't update. I'M SO SORRY. **

**Anyways, take it as a late Thanksgiving present- I've learned my lesson. No more promising when a chapter will be up. It ends with disgruntled readers and a frantic author- and trust me that sucks from both sides of the equation. **

**Also, those of you who don't like slash, beware of this chapter. And this fic in general. Just warning you.**

**JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. I'm not making any money off this, and I'm not claiming to own this.**

The large hospital room was quiet as death- something that Ron Weasley found quite ironic, since hospitals were places where you were supposed to _heal people, _not, like, kill them.

He giggled a little, hysteria entering his voice. He calmed himself down, then turned to one of his friends, Draco Malfoy. He was pacing the room, looking frantic. Ron reached out and caught his hand. The nails were bitten past the quick, raw and bleeding.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy," Ron muttered, getting up and rifling through a medicine cabinet, where he found a vial of Calming Draught. He filled up a glass of water and poured a few drops of the pale blue liquid into it. "You shouldn't be hurting yourself like that. It's not good for your sanity. Or mine, for that matter."

The blonde Slytherin rolled his eyes as he took the potion grudgingly. "Please, Weasley. You aren't sane in the first place, and if you _did_ have any scrap of sanity- which I highly doubt- you lost it when you decided to befriend the Malfoy heir. I've been known to drive people insane."

"Sod off, Malfoy. Besides, I owed you for Hermione." Ron sighed as he sat back down at his sister's bedside. Ginny had been a little too curious and had gotten too close to the Circle, just when the magical field had blown everyone back. She'd been thrown into the wall. The Healers had quickly fixed up her concussion, but Ron insisted on letting her rest.

Draco pulled up a chair as well and patted Ron's shoulder. "Sorry about Ginny," he said softly.

Ron kept his eyes fixed on his little sister and swallowed back the lump in his throat. "It's alright," he answered. "She'll be fine, she just needs some rest and she'll be back on her feet."

The silence dragged on, tension that you could cut with a butter knife. Ron cleared his throat and looked at Draco, pausing for a moment. "So," he said finally. "Harry Potter."

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "What about him?"

Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Um. Well. I don't know. But I heard... I guess... do you think- do you think that what his two siblings say about-"

Draco fixed Ron with a glare that Medusa would've been proud of. "You think that our newly crowned Monarch is a follower of the person who killed his parent's best friend and his babysitter, attacked his twin brother, and would have killed his parents- that he is a dedicated disciple of a mass murderer hell-bent on genocide and the death of the other six billion people on this planet. That a thirteen year old Ravenclaw boy is practicing Dark magic that is practically impossible to even read about, besides a few tomes in the Restricted section of the Hogwarts and some perfunctory books in the bookshops and libraries of Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. You think that Harry Potter is Dark and a follower of Voldemort."

Ron scratched the back of his neck. "When you put it like that, it sounds so impossible..." he joked. Draco's glare did not lessen- if anything, it only intensified. Ron sighed. "I do. I think he's Dark. And I think that he's going to follow Voldemort. Cody and Cora-"

"He's not," Draco said flatly. "And I took you for a better person than one who listened to the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Whine and the Girl-Who-Was-Born-To-Piss-Off-The-World."

Ron flushed an angry red and looked away. "I don't listen to them," he protested weakly. "I just..."

"Bullshit. You're calling a thirteen-year-old boy evil."

"How do you know he's not?" Ron countered, leaning forward. "How do you know he's not Dark? I mean, I know we need a Monarch- hell knows that the Ministry is corrupt and essentially based on 'who can pay Fudge off first'- but I dunno about Harry Potter. He's just... weird."

Draco ran his hands through his hair and sat back in his seat. "Well, first, Ron, stop acting as if Dark is automatically equal to evil. Because- surprise surprise! It's not. It's only evil when used for evil. For example- Grindelwald was a Light Lord, not a Dark Lord- and I know you know that, but still, I think you need to be reminded. Grindelwald tried to get rid of _all Dark magic. _For a long time, lots of people followed him and a lot of what he preached is still in the system. He convinced the world- with the help of propped-up Ministers- that Dark was evil. Light is just as evil as Dark, if it falls into the wrong hands. He killed my grandmother and two of my uncles, and plenty others! Hell, Ron, _I'm _Dark. My entire family is Dark! Did you somehow miss it when I got sworn in as a Dark Templar. When you say Dark is evil you're calling me evil, you're calling my entire family evil. If Dark magic really _was_ evil, than wouldn't it be illegal?"

Ron stared for several moments at Draco, who was breathing heavily after his longwinded speech. "Okay," he said finally. "Okay, I get that. I mean, I knew about how Dark wasn't evil. But how do you know_ Harry _isn't Dark?"

Draco laughed harshly. "Well, he comes from a Light family. No way he could actually find out about this stuff unless he makes regular trips to Knockturn Alley- which I doubt, because Borgin doesn't like the Potters much and he wouldn't talk to one, let alone sell. Also, Magic just chose him- do you think Magic would choose someone who is biased towards one type of Magic?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Morgana and Merlin, Draco, you don't actually believe those myths, do you? I used to-" he glanced sadly at Ginny- she had been mostly the reason that he had believed in any type of fairytale. "... but I think it's mostly based on magical core. To me, it just means that Harry is really powerful and dangerous, nothing else. All else aside, if Magic did exist, then we wouldn't have had a dry period for, like, what? Three hundred years?"

"That's your opinion," the other replied stonily. "But it doesn't change the fact that Harry Potter isn't Dark."

The redhead laughed. "That's my entire point! If I were talking about- say- oh, I don't know, an upper-year Slytherin or something- you wouldn't be so adamant, you might even agree! I can be a bit thick at times, Draco-" the aforementioned boy snorted at this- "but I'm not a complete idiot! You two know each other and I want to know how."

At this, a light pink blush spread up Draco's neck. "Yeah, I know him. We're friends, that's all."

Ron leaned back in triumph. "Aha! So you do know him! Now, tell me how."

Draco frowned. "I just did. I told you that we're friends. And that is all. What else do you want?"

Ron tapped his chin mockingly. "The truth would definitely be useful, for one. You to stop bullshitting me, for another."

"I'm not lying! Harry and I are friends."

"YLIES. ALL LIES. SO MANY LIES. I AM DROWNING IN THE LIES." Ron held back giggles as Draco spluttered, turning red.

"Shut up!"

"Come on, tell your old bud Ronnie McDonald!"

Draco opened his mouth to deny it and then paused. "Wait. How do you know about McDonald's?"

"How do _you _know about Ronald McDonald, Malfoy?"

"I took Muggle Studies and Study of Ancient Runes instead of Divination and Care Of Magical Creatures, you numbwit, if you didn't notice." Draco shrugged. "And you probably found out from Hermione, sneaky bastard."

"Yeah, I did. But stop changing the subject. YOU CAN RUN BUT NOT HIDE." Ron boomed, and both burst into giggles. Ron sobered up after a few minutes and fixed Draco with a curious look.

"Seriously. How do you even know Harry? And you can't be just mates, there's more to it than that. You're mates with Terence Higgins and Cadden Parkinson- I know that, because you spend time with them and sometimes I hang out with them and I've seen you all, and I _know _you're friends and stuff, because I've seen it with my two eyes. But Harry? You never mentioned him to me and I only saw you with him a couple times. So you two, it's different than friends. Drug-deal partners, maybe." Draco glared and Ron chuckled. "Just kidding, mate. And I promise I won't make anymore jokes like that if you just telllllll meeeee..." He whined, propping his head up on his elbows. "C'mon, Draco."

Draco mumbled something under his breath.

"What? I couldn't hear you."

"Harry and I dated for a while during the school year."

Ron choked on air. "_What_?"

"Not much!" Draco said hurriedly, eyes flicking around the room and hands tightening on the edge of his chair. "Just.. when I wasn't with you and Hermione one in Hogsmeade I was with Harry. You wouldn't have seen us much- we usually hung out in the back of the Three Broomsticks. We broke up in May, anyhow. My dad wouldn't have approved. Neither of us thought we could deal with a letter-penpal thing _with_ romance. We wrote, of course. But not-" he made a vague gesture and slumped back in his chair.

"Well, I certainly wasn't predicting that," Ron said, eyes bulging out of his head. "No offense meant by that, of course. Just kind of shocked, is all... I thought you were, y'know, into girls and, and stuff."

Draco flushed a darker red. "Harry is, I think," he said quietly, glancing at the unconscious boy. "He likes both girls and boys. But not me. I'm, um, just... gay. I guess."

"Wait... that doesn't fit right. Way back in second year, before I got to know you, I mean before you got the Mandrake Draught to Hermione, you were mooning all over Pansy Parkinson!"

"I just did that for appearances. My father... well, he's had a few bad experiences with some queer people, and he, ah... he just doesn't like queers. He caught his sister, Aronia, in bed with one of his girlfriends before he married my mum. Apparently he was planning to propose, and then... well. He talks about how all queers should die, sometimes. So I acted like I liked Pansy so he'd think I was into girls."

Ron scoffed. "Your father is a stuck-up bastard with a stick so far up his arse that I don't think that even Hagrid could pull it out. Don't pay him any mind."

Draco smiled. "So you haven't got any problems with me being gay?"

Ron shook his head. "No. I mean... Bill dates boys instead of girls sometimes, and I caught Percy snogging one of the prefects in a broom closet a couple years ago. I mean, I don't have a problem with them." His eyes lit up. "Wait. Did you snog Harry?"

"Shut it, Ron- that's none of your business. We have better things to talk about than my love life anyways."

"Like what?"

Draco smiled wickedly. "_Your_ love life, for example- it's much more interesting than mine, and I like to talk about your unrequited crushes and your failed attempts at asking a girl out. Speaking of such, are you and Katie Bell on speaking terms now? You embarassed her so when you asked her out in October. The candy pumpkin guts were just overkill."

* * *

><p>This awkward conversation was cut off around twenty minutes later when Ginny Weasley woke up with a loud, dry, huge, hacking-up-a-lung cough.<p>

"Ginny!" Ron exclaimed, jumping out of his seat and to his sister's side. "Are you alright, then? Are you okay? Do I need to get you something? Blink once for yes, twice for no."

"How many times do I have to blink for 'sod off you prat, I'm perfectly fine, and I'm going to kick your ass as soon as we get out of this place and I'm not on duty?'" Ginny snarled and swung her legs out of the bed, standing up and rifling through the potions shelf above Harry's bed.

Ron cringed and Draco stifled a smile as she stalked over to where she

"Gin, I only thought you should get some rest after that nasty blow you took to the head. You were-"

"Save it till we get home, Ronny boy. Then you can blubber about only wanting the best for your twin sister as I curse you senseless. Draco and Hermione can stop by- it's very entertaining, I think you might enjoy it. However, we'll have to keep it till then- any magical residue that is perceived as harmful by Harry's core could tilt it over the edge and make it explode, killing everyone in this hospital, and we wouldn't want that, would we? So Ron, put away your wand, and Draco, you put away yours. Since I'm the only one here with any Healing experience, I'm going to keep mine out for safety purposes.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Despite your impressive display of knowledge earlier, I think that we should just wait for Harry to wake up, and then we'll call a Healer, and then... well, whatever needs to happen will happen. But for now, we should just wait it out."

"Wait, wait. Haven't you already called a Healer?" Ginny's eyes widened. "Oh Merlin. You didn't wake me up, and you didn't call a Healer. He could have gotten sick, or hurt, or something, and you wouldn't have a Healer with you. I'm calling one right now."

"Relax, Ginevra," Draco reassured her. "We just need a Healer for when Harry wakes up. We can call one then."

Ginny whirled. "Godric and Salazar, Draco, you can't just wait till then! How long do you think it'll take for the Healer to get to this place? Do you know how long it would take you to just get in the building? And Morgana, to even get to this floor- well, it would certainly take longer than you seem to think. You'd need identification, your doctorate, your reason, a form to fill out, a solemn swear on your Magic that you weren't going to harm the Monarch- well, I think it'd take over an hour. Did you even consider that? Of course you didn't. _Boys... _well. Let me just call the office and ask for the best Healers the've got. What time is it, by the way?"

Draco checked his watch and rubbed his eyes, suddenly tired. He hadn't slept at all last night and likely enough he wouldn't sleep again till tomorrow. "It's around three in the morning."

Ginny sighed, shot a glare at Ron, and pressed the intercom button that ran down to the front office.

"Hello, this is the front office intercom of St. Mungo's, how may I help you?" A tinny man's voice said from the intercom.

"We need your best Healers immediately."

"I'm sorry, miss, but our best Healers-"

"This is the King's Suite. The King is not yet awake, but many Templars are guarding this room, and it will likely be quite a long time until the Healers are allowed to get to His room, since they will have to go through security. So I will need your best Healers, _now_."

"Yes miss." The man said meekly. Ginny shut off the intercom, put her hands on her hips, and fixed both Ron and Draco with a stare.

"Alright, boys. Time to get down to business."

Ron groaned. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>Harry was swimming.<p>

The water around him was full of rainbows and shifting ripples of color, and it tasted sweet, like sugar quills with just a bare hint of peppermint. It was soft, too, like feathers that brushed his skin and soothed every twitch and itch of his skin.

It even _sounded_ good- it sang sweetly in his ears, a wordless tune that Harry recognized faintly. He wasn't quite sure of where he recognized it from, but that didn't matter- not here! Nothing mattered here- except perhaps him.

A laugh bubbled up in his throat and he shot forward, zooming through the water. He could stay here forever, if he wanted- he could just explore this watery heaven and maybe he could find some fish, a dolphin maybe- perhaps a coral reef-

_Cora-_

He stopped dead, the rippling color flowing to a stop and hovering, whitening the very edges of his vision. The tune in his ears grew softer then louder as Harry reeled in silence, as he turned over in his mind that image of the sneering blonde girl.

Cora? Who was Cora? Who was this girl that poked at his memory and was affecting the music- was she mean? Who was she, why was he thinking of her? Was she perhaps a person that he knew, who lived far from the ocean?

_Cora and Cody and_

The new words came to him with a shock of dull pain and he shot backward, away from the memories. Pain, what was pain? He didn't want it, it was evil. Too _familiar. _He shook his head, along with the memories. _  
><em>

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. The only thing that mattered was the colors of the water and the kicking of his feet, the only thing that mattered was where he was now.

Around him, the color rippled again, changing from a sugary pink and a deep purple to a pale yellow and a deep red, like the colors of autumn leaves-

_Autumn cousin fall leaves laugh confidant yellow Hufflepuff kind loyal naive _

and it came back with a burst of sound, the sound of her laugh in his ears, and everything else that he had pushed to the back of his mind in ignorance and annoyance, and he gasped, gasped for air, needed air, needed to take a breath, suffocating in this wonderful heavenly watery grave that was sucking him in-

Harry's head burst to the surface, and the tune burst in his ears and popped, like when you changed altitudes. The colors burst into a blinding white and he screamed, screamed, screamed as the whiteness burst into scintillating colors that formed into shapes-

and Harry Potter sat up in a bed in St. Mungo's, his legs tangled in the sheets, his eyes bloodshot and burning with tears, and a migraine splitting his head apart.


	6. Healing and Hysterics

**I do not own Harry Potter- it belongs to Joanne Kathleen Rowling. How wonderful it would be if I _did _own it... but alas. I am but a poor student with nothing to her name.**

Ginny Weasley was a light sleeper. Ever since Fred and George decided she and Ron were old enough to prank properly, when they were four, she had learned to wake as soon as someone spoke, as soon as a floorboard creaked, and it had been reinforced ever since Tom had crept into her mind. And that's why she woke at seven AM in St. Mungo's, dim sunlight streaming through the windows, and the quiet disturbed only by the breathing of the others.

She sat up and yawned, rubbing her eyes as she noticed her surroundings. Last night she'd dragged a hospital cot right next to the King's, so that she could be woken at a shift of muscles, a small squeak of the metal bedsprings.

Her muscles tensed as she felt an icy hand brush the skin of her arm. Goosebumps the size of insect eggs rose along her skin, making her shudder deeply, and she turned to the boy, holding back a scream as she stared down into Harry's bloodshot green eyes. His head swung crazily from side to side as if he had no control over his neck muscles. He had pulled himself up into a sitting position, hanging his head. His vibrant green eyes peered out from under his unwashed black bangs, and they were drowsy-looking, as if he had just roused himself from a nap.

"Tell me... where am I?" He rasped.

She let out the cry of and catapulted off the bed, eyes wide. He was _awake. _Mother of Morgana, she'd fallen asleep! She got up, knees knocking, hands beginning to shake and sweat as she glanced around the room. Where were the Healers? Shouldn't they be here by now?

"You're awake. Oh, Merlin..."

"You've... got it wrong... 'M not Merlin, 'm just.. Harry Po-" he stopped rasping as he began to cough. With a bemused look on his face, he tried to clear his throat. A dribble of bloody phlegm flew out of his mouth and blotted the white sheets. Ginny sucked in a shocked breath as Harry's eyes widened. He coughed again and doubled over, arms clutching his stomach, as more blood and phlegm fell onto the bed. Blood started drip from his nose, and he started heaving for breath, joints locking from tension.

"Ron, get up- get the fuck up!" She shook her brother's shoulder, trying to wake him up and get up off the chair, without success. "Fuck- Draco bloody Malfoy, get _up_!" She called to the blonde boy, who had fallen asleep at four thirty on one of the far beds, across the room.

Ginny grabbed handfuls of her hair and took deep breaths, striving to keep her cool and fight off the hysteria. Just get the boys up, she reasoned to herself. Three heads are better than one.

"Get your arses _up_!" She shouted as loud as she could, and this was too much sound for Harry. Still bent over at the waist, he clapped his hands to his ears and whined in pain. Blood trickled from his ears, and Ginny swore softly as she noticed the twin streams of blood that were dripping from his eyes, clouding his vision over.

The situation had gone from bad to worse. Screw getting the boys up. She couldn't waste any more time- she had to try and stop the problem herself. Ginny had _some _training in healing, but this- this, she had so little information about what was going on-

_Think. What stops pain? What can hold off the problem for now? _

Of course- she knew that. That was basic.

"Painkillers. Painkilling Philter, that's the best type of painkillers, use those-" she thought out loud as she ran to the potion cupboard and snatched a light green bottle off the lower shelf, then threw it over her shoulder as she checked the label. She rifled through the shelf, knocking bottles to the floor in her haste to find a painkiller. Just as she began to feel desperate, she caught hold of a pearly white bottle that was labeled _Painkilling Philter _near the back of the cupboard, and pulled the top off with her long fingernails, ripping off half a fingernail in the process. As blood began to well up, she allowed herself a single moment to curse those stupid potionmakers who decided 'hey these rubber covers are really easy to open in case of emergency!' If she ever had a chance, she would find them and track them down. And then she would subject them to Charlie's favorite dragon, Norberta, who also happened to be particularly vicious.

On a table near the cupboard, she found a set of measuring tools, and snatched it up. With shaking hands, she poured the white mixture into a tablespoon-sized one. If she remembered correctly, she couldn't give him more than that without any more information.

If she _didn't _remember correctly... Ginny shook that thought out of her head. That was not something that she wanted to think about.

She rushed back over to Harry and pried open his mouth to stuff the spoon in, then slammed his jaws shut. Harry tried to open them again, but you couldn't grow up with six older brothers and not have some muscle to show for it- and Ginny was no exception. She almost felt bad for Harry- her grip had to hurt.

As soon as she heard the audible gulp, she sighed and let go of his jaws as he relaxed onto the pillows, the tension leaking from his body. Draco and Ron were still fast asleep and Ginny reminded herself not to let herself relax. The painkiller would make sure that the King felt no pain, but it was not a cure-all. There was an internal rupture, somewhere, most likely, causing the bloody coughs and the bloody nose - that much she knew- but from where, how was she to know?

The Healers would have some idea, she decided, and turned on the intercom, cutting off the man's introduction. "This is the King's Suite, Templar Weasley speaking. The King is awake, has been for the last five minutes, and he's coughing blood- and his ears, eyes, and nose are bleeding too. This wouldn't be a problem if I had backup- but somehow," her voice turned brittle and took on an angry tone, "the Healers aren't here yet, even though they were _supposed _to be sent at three-thirty this morning, and it's seven AM. This leads me to believe you didn't send them to me when I asked for them- and if the King dies because of you, well..."

She shook her head when the man started making frantic apologies. "Save it. No time now. Send them now and tell me what to do- I know some stuff about healing. I gave him a tablespoon of painkiller and he's sensitive to loud noises and is coughing blood and phlegm- what do I do?"

She grabbed the notepad off the bedside table and scribbled down her notes, nodding along, as the man combed through a digital database of files, then recited out the diagnoss, prognosis, prescription, and the root of the problem. "Okay, okay, got it. You better be on call if anything goes wrong," she warned him, smiling grimly, "or I _will _find a way to get you fired."

Ginny grinned devilishly to herself as the man assured her of this, tripping over his words in his haste to placate her, and turned away from the intercom, running a finger down her list of prescriptions

_Diagnosis: Core Expansion Infection (CIE)_

_Symptoms: Blood in ears, nose, mouth, eyes, etc. sensitive to bright colors, loud noise, strong smells + taste. _

_Prescription: _

_1. 1 tsp balance brew, take 1 (balance brew: gray, small bottle)_

_2. 4 oz cor cure, 1/10 mins for hour (scintillating colors)_

_3. 1 tbsp painkilling philter, take 2/hour for 2 days (pearly white)_

__4. 1 bottle blood-replenish (red)__

__5. _soothing salve to bleeding area till it stops (pale blue cream)___

___6. painkiller pills- doloraltus (green tablets in purple bottle, 2/3 hours- 3/3 hour if u wanna get him a little loopy and more docile)___

_7. liquvate? drug- liquid enervate, injection- needles in back cupboard. 1 shot/1 hour for 1 day (in needles, pink)_

She turned on her heel and looked at her brother, who was still fast asleep. There was only one technique- her backup plan- that was plausible at this point. Not that she had any reservations about this plan- in fact, she _loved _this plan, considering the fact that he'd supposed to be watching the King, the prat, and if it wasn't for her he might have shot it all straight to hell and perhaps even killed him with his neglect...

In retrospect, maybe she didn't need to slap him so hard across the face it left a red mark the rest of the day, but Ginny wasn't going to apologize.

Ron awoke with a sputter. "Dammit, Ginny, that wasn't necess-" He caught sight of Harry, who was still coughing blood, and paled alarmingly- it seemed like someone had sucked the blood from his bones. "Is he awake? Oh Merlin... why aren't the Healers here?"

Ginny shrugged. "Man at the front office was an asshole and didn't send them. He's sent them just _now _and it's our job to get him stable before he loses too much blood. Now get your ass up, you gotta get going!"

Ron nodded and snatched the list from her hand, eyes flicking over the list as he strode over to wake up Draco Malfoy, who was still unconscious and snoring quite loudly on the hospital bed. "Alright. You get the brew, I'll get the Core Cure."

* * *

><p>The world was white. White shapes, blurred and out of focus- shapes, yes, but only white ones. There was an occasional hint of gold or a strip of gray or black, but the rest of the world was as white as an egg.<p>

In the midst

A blur- a girl shaped blur- was next to him, eyes wide and dark. Her skin was tanned and dotted with brown, and when her ginger hair caught the sunlight of the windows behind him, it erupted into sheets of golden flames. She was asleep on the floor and she twitched in her sleep, muttering a few garbled words he did not hear.

This was odd. A membrane seemed to cover him, blanket him. It blurred his eyes and muffled his ears and his mouth. No barbed words could enter this membrane, but then again, none could leave it either.

"Please," he said politely. Please. That was a nice word. He liked the way it curled and tightened around his tongue. People ought to say it more often.

"Please, tell me where.." he frowned. Was he anywhere at all? Was this membrane keeping him separate, separate from his surroundings. Most likely he was someplace, he decided. And it would not hurt to ask the girl where he was.

"Please tell me where I am."

But the girl remained, kept on moving away. She was not hearing him- the wall prevented it. No matter how much he tried to gain her attention she did not notice, did not seem to stir either, no matter how much he tried to speak with her. His voice steadily grew louder as he pleaded for her to tell her where he was.

"Please, miss! Tell me where I am!"

All of a sudden the fuzzy blur began to move as his voice steadily increased in volume. The proportions of the room began to change as he started shouting, and all of a sudden the membrane broke, like someone had punched it.

He reached out a hand and caressed the cold air. "Where am I?" he whispered. Though it sounded like a tiny whisper to Ginny's ears, a breath, a message to wake, Harry thought he was speaking normally.

Then Ginny stirred, eyes fluttering open and mouth opening in a yawn as she glanced around the room. With the last of his strength, Harry reached out and touched his fingers, which were as cold as ice, to her warm arm. It burned him, and he held back a shriek of pain as Ginny's head snapped around to look at him. He flopped back to the bed, head lolling about, and shouted as best he could. _  
><em>

"Tell me... where am I?"

She jumped back in shock, mouth hanging open in surprise, and he tensed his neck muscles and pulled himself back up to face her again. She got up as well and moved towards him, trembling, radiating fear and shock and nerves, reeking of it, and he took it all in, overwhelmed by it. The bombardment of senses hurt, and he nearly missed what she said, and even then he only caught a bit.

Merlin? Did this girl think he was Merlin? No, he was just Harry Potter. He had to clear that up for her.

"'M not Merlin, 'm just Harry... Harry Po-" He convulsed, unable to continue. There was a sharp pain in his stomach that hurt more by the minute, demanding to be felt, and something was rising in his throat, rejected by his stomach, a thick hot liquid that tasted of salt and rust and metal. He coughed and the liquid flew from his mouth, staining the white sheets with blood.

_Blood. _

He coughed again, and again, and soon he couldn't stop, bent over the bed, clutching his stomach, as more blood spotted the fabric and he felt like he couldn't breathe, the stuff coating his throat and filling his mouth with hot, salty blood. He breathed in sharply from his nose and the blood rushed down from there too. He couldn't breathe.

The girl screamed, panic in her voice, and he clapped his hands to his ears as something snapped in them and ripped as well, and the blood started spilling out of his ears and wetting his hands. He was crying, too, and the tears were bloody, and there was just so much blood and so little air.

It felt like dying.

A minute, an hour, or maybe a dark infinity passed before a soft hand took his chin, roughly gripped his lower jaw, and pulled open his mouth painfully, pouring something sweet and cold down his throat. He tried to snap shut his jaw, but the hands were strong and ruthless and would not let him close his jaw until the sweet coldness was gone.

Then the hands were gone, and the pain with them. The blood was still dripping but the pain in his stomach was gone, and the pain in his ears, the pain in his eyes and nose and mouth and everywhere. He was at peace.

Too quickly the hands returned, but gentler this time, and opened his mouth, pouring down a brew that tasted like pepper and made him sneeze. Soon after another pair of hands, these callused and tentative, gave him a cool drink that tasted like sugar and ice creams, and he savored it. The gushes of blood began to dwindle to trickles as he lapped up the final drops of the sweet drink, and more hands pressed a cold washcloth to his chin.

More of the sweet coldness, followed by something hot and sticky that stuck to his mouth, and then a cold cream on his face, and then the bleeding, already just a trickle, was completely stopped, and the washcloth returned again, washing off the last bits of blood. Someone opened his mouth and dropped three pills inside, and he swallowed it whole, shuddering at the dry, bitter taste. It was disgusting.

He was so absorbed in the taste of the pill that he almost didn't notice the pinprick of pain as a needle full of bright pink medicine entered his arm. He did, however, notice as the plunger was pushed, filling his veins with what seemed like helium, ballooning him, clearing his head of fog and odd thoughts and restorng him to a slightly saner state of mind. Slowly the people tending to him stood back in satisfaction as he blinked blearily, rubbed his eyes, and then peered up at the group of three- a petite redheaded girl, a similar-looking taller boy, and Draco Malfoy.

"Merlin goddamn Emrys, what potions was I on?"

The redheaded girl- he recognized her as Ginny Weasley now- grinned. "You weren't on any, which might have been the problem. Core Expansion Infection, that's all. You're on, like, ten potions right now. I'm slightly surprised you aren't babbling on about rainbow sex and cloud-unicorn diplomatic relations."

"Forgive my lack of knowledge, but I'm completely blank in the medical industry. What exactly is a Core Expansion Infection?"

Ginny shrugged. "Don't ask me, I don't know. It's not very well-known, anyhows- I think the most recent files go back to Imogen's Crowning, and you know, that was ages ago. The only reason I know anything is because I was in the Hospital Wing for a long time after- well, you know. Madam Pomfrey took a fancy to me and she decided I ought to learn some basic Healing. It's not even all that much."

"Don't listen to her," the taller redhead stage-whispered to him. "Ginny's brilliant, she is."

"You're, um, Ronald Weasley, right?"

"You can call me Ron, if you like. We'll be spending quite a lot of time together." The boy grinned good-naturedly and Harry blushed.

"Stop flirting with him, Ron," Draco glared. "I don't flirt with Katie Bell."

Ron frowned. "But you don't fancy Katie Bell, so you don't flirt with her."

Draco groaned. "And forgive me if I'm wrong, but you don't fancy Harry, do you? So please stop flirting."

Harry suppressed a smile, and Draco whipped around to him. "What are you smiling about, Potter?"

"Nothing, Malfoy," the boy said meekly, trying not to laugh. "Carry on."

"Actually, Draco, could you not? We have to fill the patient in on his condition. Harry passed out right in the middle. He wasn't even conscious for the Herald's announcement. We ought to fill him in, it's only right," Ginny said, pulling up one of the hospital chairs next to the bed. "The longer we keep it from him the angrier he'll be. Luna told me that bit."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked bemusedly. "Actually, why am I here? Did I-"

Draco stopped him. "Harry," he asked gently. "What's the last thing you remember from the ceremony?"

"Er, I was in the Circle. And I was rejected, obviously-" Ginny raised her eyebrows. "And so I was going to go back to my seat, I think? And I wanted to move but I couldn't, I was stuck. Cody and Cora and the audience all started screaming and standing up and Cody and Cora went running down the aisles, trying to get to me. But I couldn't hear them. It was as if someone put the world on mute. And then... Cora was at the Circle... and she tried to go down the stairs. And then... the world was unmuted and it was loud. So loud. And... then the rest of it I'm pretty sure I was high or something."

Ron snorted. "Nah."

"Harry," Ginny leaned forward. "You weren't rejected by Magic. You were accepted."

He stared at her. "Do you mean to say-"

"Yes. You're King Harry the First." Draco nodded.

Harry stared at them for a good minute, and Ginny began to blush, red creeping up her neck and heating her skin. Ron coughed and turned away as the silence grew long and awkward- and then Harry burst out laughing.

"You really thought I'd fall for that!" He laughed. "No, seriously guys, why am I here?"

Draco sighed and got up, grabbing a Pensieve from the back counter. He pulled a stream of silvery liquid from his head and poured it into the small bowl. "Do you want to verify the memory via Pensieve, Harry?"

He stopped laughing.

"You're not kidding?"

Ginny shook her head. "No. You were chosen. You are officially the heir to the magical throne."

Harry stared at them for a second, looking like a deer in the headlights. Then he groaned and buried his head in his hands, drawing his knees up to his chest and slumping forward to rest his head on his knees. "I'm screwed."

"It's okay, though," Ron assured him. "Your life isn't going to change that much. You don't have to rule the country. All you have to do is appoint a regent until you're seventeen years old- say, your parents. Your dad's James Potter, right? He'll have been raised to be political. He'll know what to do. All you have to do is sign some stuff, reconfirm titles- Orders of Merlin, for example- and then supervise."

Harry shook his head. "That's not what I'm talking about. Ruling the country- I know I don't have to do that until I'm of age. Who would let a thirteen year old boy rule the magical world? No, I'm worried about how it will affect me."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Merlin, Harry, separate your head from your arse, will you?"

"No!" Harry cried, sitting up, eyes fierce and body taut with anxiety and anger, trigger-ready deadly tension coiling throughout him. "My brother and sister are going to make my life _hell_. I thought maybe I could... I don't know... avoid them this year?"

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, caution in her voice. "I know that Cora and Cody can be really terrible, but I thought they had _standards_. After all, you are their brother. Shouldn't they be happy for you, not throwing a bloody _tantrum_?"

Harry sighed. "That's always how it's been, I guess, ever since I was a kid. They grew up in an environment that told them they could get away with anything, and they liked that. Cora and Cody like being liked. They like their fame, they like their renown, and they like the spotlight. They absolutely detest being upstaged, and if they do, I do my best to stay out of the way and just do what I'm told to- you know, damage control. So they're probably going to be very upset when they find out I was accepted as King. They were banking on being crowned- hell, so was the public, so was I! But they didn't get it, and instead _I _get it. That doesn't bode well for me."

Ginny clenched her jaw and gritted her teeth. "That's shitty. But then again, Cora has always been rude and hostile - I'm not surprised to learn Cody is as well. Goddamned rich kid"

Draco spoke again. "Harry, you don't get it."

"What don't I get?" Harry fired back angrily. "I get it! They're gonna make my life _hell_!"

Draco shook his head. "A lot more people hate Cora and Cody than you think, Harry. Most of Ravenclaw will stick together, and there are quite a few Hufflepuffs who have gotten more than a little tired of them. And Slytherin... well, we're always being screwed over, and we really don't give a shit about Cora and Cody and their headmaster anymore, so you won't get any harassment from them, except for the super-Dark Go-Voldemort Death Eaters in training. In fact, they'll probably stick up for you."

Some of the tension left Harry's shoulders, and he relaxed a little.

"You're right," he said slowly. "Cody's lackeys reside mostly in Gryffindor, and I tend to avoid Gryffindor- no offense to you two, of course," he said hurriedly. "But I don't really hang around Gryffindors."

Ron raised an eyebrow but let it be at that.

"Still, the lackeys are only part of it. Cody has the numbers, and the popularity, and the brawn, but alone he isn't much more than an annoyance, because he doesn't know how to use them effectively. If worst came to worst I could take him in a fight using magic- at least I think I could. The myth that he's abnormally powerful has something to it. He's a ways above average in that regard, though I think that because he's had extra tutoring."

Draco nodded vigourously. "That's my point. You'll be fine. Stop worrying."

Harry paused. "I'm not done."

He grabbed the glass of water on the bedside table and downed it in one gulp. With a shaking hand, he placed it back on the table then continued to talk.

"You see, I haven't mentioned Cora yet. She's smart, cunning, politically-oriented- how she didn't get into Slytherin I don't know- but her name is only known among purebloods. She's... specialist, shall we say. Everyone knows Cody. A quarter of that number knows Cora, and maybe an eighth of THAT number knows me. We're footnotes in Cody's history."

Harry smiled bitterly. "Cora hasn't got Cody's connections. She's a lone wolf compared to him. She would be brilliant in Cody's place, but she hasn't got nearly the resources he does. So, logically, I shouldn't worry, because they're isolated problems. Cora isn't connected enough- Cody isn't smart enough."

"But- they're best friends. Maybe each other's only real friends. So they AREN'T isolated problems. They're connected. Knowing them, Cody will use his fame to either give Cora a platform to rant, or Cora will dictate what he says. While I won't have a problem at school, the media will eat it up."

Ginny stared at him.

"Um, Harry, how the bloody hell did you figure that out so quickly?"

He shrugged. "When you live with Cody and Cora, you live constantly ready to go on damage control. And I wasn't Sorted into Ravenclaw for nothing, Miss Weasley," he grinned up at her.

"True, that," she shrugged and crossed her legs, leaning on one elbow. "You certainly are smart, then. But what are you going to do about it, then? I didn't think you were fixated on appearances."

Harry shook his head. "Not appearances. My privacy. I would rather NOT have Rita Skeeter rummaging through my room, thank you very much."

"Why, got something to hide?" Draco snarked.

"Only the bodies of the last people who snooped uninvited in my room," Harry snapped back.

Ron chuckled softly. "As riveting as this discussion is, the Healers are here." He jabbed a thumb toward the door. From what could be seen from the small glass window in the door, a Helaer was holding up a badge, confirming her occupation to the Templar on guard. "Maybe you better save the dead bodies conversation for another time, mate."

The door was pushed open and a tall, heavyset woman in white Healer robes hastened into the hospital room. On the breast pocket of the robes was a small black badge emblazoned with the logo of St. Mungo's- a crossed wand and bone.

The woman walked with an air of urgent importance. The sound of her heels clicked quickly on the lineoleum as she made her way across the room and waved her wand over Harry, who was rubbing his eyes in bewilderment as a Healer snapped on the bright lights. She seemed satisfied with whatever results she procured, and began pulling out long plastic tubes from drawers and passing them to her colleagues, who cleaned them with fervor and attached them to needles.

The file of Healers entering the room did not let up, and the three children moved from their spots to the door, where the line seemed to finally be slowing, at least. Less Healers seemed to be waiting to come in as Percy, the Templar on duty, scanned badges.

The older Weasley was puffed up with pride, trying to look important as he turned up his nose and scanned badges under his wand. Ginny and Ron stifled laughs as her older brother nodded along, saying stuff like, "Yes ma'am, that looks alright, you're cleared," and other pseudo-important bullshit. Not that they both didn't lovePercy- he was, after all, their brother- but the thirdborn Weasley had an unshaken belief in authority that none of the others possessed, and it did, on occasion, made him act like an utter prat.

This case was one of those occasions, Ron mused as Percy stuck out his chest importantly into the face of the last Healer, who rolled her eyes at him as she scanned her badge and entered the room, crossing over to the three children near the back of the room, who were observing the proceedings with utter bafflement.

"You're free to go now, you three," she told them. "Thank you for stabilising the King- we cannot thank you enough- but the trained profesionals are here, you know, the Healers, and so you can go get some rest now. You're officially relieved."

The three all breathed sighs of relief and trudged out of the room, slamming the door behind them.


	7. The Hospital Visits

**WOOO! OVER ONE HUNDRED FOLLOWERS! AND I UPDATE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 2015! GROUNDBREAKING!**

**Also, I would like to make a PSA to all Baggenshield/Kiriel shippers: DON'T WATCH BATTLE OF FIVE ARMIES. TOO MUCH PAIN. TOO MUCH HURT. JUST. TOO. MUCH. **

**also sorry for like, the fact that this is late. i feel like i'm apologizing every chapter for that, but then again, every chapter is late, so...**

_**morbimagology/ist: the study of magical ills**_

**I don't own Harry Potter or any of the franchise. JK Rowling owns it all and I would never dream of taking it from her. That ranges more under a nightmare I don't want to have.**

Harry didn't remember much of the examinations after Ginny, Ron, and Draco had left. There was a lot of poking and prodding and plenty of needles and tubes that were poked into his arm, and more than his fair share of yelling when a Healer was too rough with whatever freaky procedures they were using- he didn't ask and didn't tell. He didn't remember much and really, he didn't want to.

Goddamned needles.

Soon after, the blur seemed to clear. When Harry looked around, he found the tubes were gone, the needles stuffed in his arms (thank fucking Merlin, he _hated _needles) had been taken away, and the horde of frantic Healers had cleared out of the room, leaving only the Matron- a businesslike woman who occupied herself with everything- and a clump of Templars, who all stood awkwardly in the back of the room, whispering to each other and staring at Harry like he was a newly discovered potion ingredient and they were Potions Masters.

"Alright," the Matron said as she reran diagnostics. "It seems you're clear to go, but we're going to have to keep you another hour to make sure you're completely clear of any lingering affects. The people in the back can talk to you, one group at a time. And I do mean that- everyone not talking to you can go sit outside, as I'm sure you all will want privacy talking to Mr. Potter. There are chairs, coffee, pastries, sort of a lounge atmosphere. Now, off you go."

The Templars filed out of the room, only a few staying behind to quibble over dibs as Harry pulled himself up into a sitting position, wincing. By chance (or not so- Harry was quite sure that he'd threatened his way in) the first person to come up to Harry was Lucius Malfoy, hair freshly combed and loose around his shoulders, clad in black. If anything else, Harry reflected, he had fantastic hair.

His wife Narcissa fidgeted with an emerald band on her right ring finger, looking pale and drawn. The black dress she wore might have been the cause- it drained the color from her thin face. Next to her, a girl with blonde ringlets slouched against a table, absentmindedly twirling her wand in circles. It was plain on her face that she wanted to be anywhere but here.

Harry could definitely understand that.

Before he could say hello, however, Narcissa and Lucius knelt, bowing their heads. Harry stared at them in shock, while behind them, the blonde girl rolled her eyes and sat down on a chair, opening a pack of gum and popping in a pink stick.

"I, Lucius Malfoy, swear my fealty to you, my future King. You are my charge, and I will give my life to protect yours. As Lord of the Noble House of Malfoy, designated as the Dark Minor, and a Dark Templar, I will help guide you in issues of the Darkness, and aid you in giving the Dark required to blend the colors of black and white into gray. I swear my life, my soul, my blood, my heart, my mind, my body, and my magic on this oath of fealty. May all seven be taken from me if I break this oath."

"I, Narcissa Malfoy, do also swear my fealty to you, on my life, soul, heart, mind, and magic. May all seven be taken from me if I break this oath."

The two straightened and bowed. Narcissa joined the blonde girl on an adjacent chair. The girl popped a particularly large bubble as the older woman sat down, and Lucius shot her a warning look, silencing her instantly. The poor girl looked down at her lap and crossed her legs, a flush creeping up the flesh of her neck, and Harry cringed internally.

"Good day, my king," Draco's father simpered. "How are you? Well rested?"

Harry fiddled with the bed covers and shrugged. "Ah... good. I guess."

Lucius nodded. "Excellent. As Lord of the Noble House of Malfoy, I hope that we can create a Darker world. The Light truly has infested every corner, has it not?"

He shrugged again. "I wouldn't know. Though I want to create the long-gone gray area, I am from the House of Potter, and we tend to be Light, see. I only see Darkness."

"I had not forgotten," Lucius smirked, his features twisting into a predatory look. "You see, the Light can be scorching, Mr. Potter. One finds the Darkness of the shade is far more appealing, especially when one has been near such a bright spotlight all his life, eh, Mr. Potter?"

Harry straightened decisively, frowning up at Malfoy. "Cody and Cora are my brother and sister. I would not lose a single moment I have had with them, and I certainly don't resent them, if that's what you're implying."

The girl twisted uncomfortably in her seat, looking guilty. Harry tried to stop being distracted by her, but he was _sure _he recognized that face...

"Mr. Potter, are you listening to me?"

"No," Harry switched his gaze from the girl to Lucius. "I got bored. Short attention span and boring people do that. So where were we? Oh yes, you were asking me if I begrudged my family anything. I said no. You talked more and it sounded like insects buzzing. Anything I missed?"

Lucius's face revealed his anger for a fleeting moment, but he quickly covered it up with his Snobby Condescending Sneer™ (founded by Abraxas Malfoy, also founder of The Malfoy Tradition of Being A Prick™, available in Malfoy Families Near You Soon!).

"The bonds of family cling tightly to you, Mr. Potter. One might even say it could harm you, one day, your protectiveness. But in any case you were mistaken I was not speaking your brother and sister. I was just speaking of your environment in general." Lucius shook his head. "It might be detrimental to you, your environment, being raised in the Light. Too much Light can be a bad thing."

"Disregarding your statement about the Light, as I am fully aware of that, it didn't sound a lot like you were speaking of my environment," the dark-haired boy retorted, crossing his arms. "Perhaps you ought to choose your words more carefully the next time you speak to the King, so no one misunderstands you. If I misunderstood you, well then, I might misunderstand what you stand for. That could lead to some terrible circumstances, Mr. Malfoy."

"I don't see how a little... misunderstanding could lead to a sufficently terrible circumstance, especially for me, as I _do _have a very large sum of Galleons to my name."

Harry smiled, shaking his head. "Oh, you're mistaken, Mr. Malfoy. I think there are quite a lot of sufficently terrible things that could happen. Like me deciding to have you removed as Head of the Dark Minor House over a misunderstanding. That would be sufficiently terrible for a person of your stature, wouldn't it?

Lucius's smile crumpled into a sneer. "You're just like your father, Potter," he sniffed, looking down his nose at the thirteen-year-old, who only smirked smugly at the older man, completely at ease. Snarkiness came quite easily to him- unnaturally so. One might even call it supernatural.

He glanced at the girl again. She was paying attention now, hands clamped around the arms of the chair, knuckles whitening, and face pale with rage

Who _was _she? He knew, he knew, it was on the tip of his tongue...

"It seems that you don't even have a retort, Potter. It must take an amazing amount of effort to think of one, seeing how your eyes glaze over," Lucius spoke again, standing up and preparing to leave.

"No, I'm just awed by how pathetic you are. It's really sad that you can only come up with one insult, and one that really isn't effective, either," Harry sighed, propping his head up with the heel of his hand. "A true tragedy. Maybe you should be spending more time updating your insult arsenal and less time trying to look like Rapunzel. That much hair product can't help, either- you're killing those few brain cells you had. Such a pity."

Lucius gaped, and tried unsuccessfully to find a reply. Finally, he closed his mouth, pressing his lips together tightly. "Mark my words, you shall regret the day you decided to insult Lucius Malfoy," he snapped at Harry, and marched off, robes billowing dramatically behind him. As he left, the door slammed, and Harry snickered quietly.

"Hey!"

The girl who sat on the chair apparently had had the last straw. She stood up and marched over to the bed, face flushing and fists clenched. "Don't talk to my father like that!"

Harry froze, staring at the girl with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. "What?"

"I said-" she began, face reddening, but Narcissa, who thus far had been silent, stopped her with a wave of her hand. "Gemini, go to your father."

"But-" Gemini tried to protest, but Narcissa fixed her with a glare of steel and said, voice edged with a hint of iron, "Go."

The blonde girl still didn't leave, lingering and staring at Harry wrathfully. Narcissa, exasperated, barked at her, "_GO!_"

Gemini huffed, threw Harry one last angry glare, then stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Narcissa turned to Harry with a sigh, twisting the emerald ring in the resulting silence.

"I apologize about Lucius and Gemini," she murmured almost inaudibly, as the silence became nearly unbearably awkward. "Gemini is, well, spoiled, for lack of a better word. Lucius dotes on her, and in return, she defends him fiercely. And Lucius... well, he has a temper and doesn't like being denied what he wants."

Harry shook his head. "I could see _that _from a mile away. No, Lady Malfoy, I've grown accustomed to that knowing Draco. My surprise is from the fact that- her name is Gemini, right? Yes, I was under the misapprehension that Gemini didn't exist. I thought Draco was an only child."

"Wait a moment. You know Draco?" Narcissa glanced up from where her hands were clasped in her lap, eyes lighting up when Harry nodded.

"We're very good friends. I've been writing to him over the summer, but I haven't seen him since school let out."

Narcissa laughed- a soft noise not unlike a bell. "So you're the mysterious school friend that Draco's been writing to! I wouldn't have expected you to be Draco's friend, Mr. Potter. No offense meant at all, it's just... Draco is a Slytherin, and well, as a Potter, I would assume you are a Gryffindor, and there's been a sort of taboo against them from entering a friendship."

Harry shook his head and a bitter edge entering hi. "No, Lady Malfoy, you're mistaken. I was Sorted into Ravenclaw, not Gryffindor, and Ravenclaws and Slytherins have always been close, as far as I can tell. You must be thinking of my twin brother Cody, or my younger sister Cora. They're both Gryffindors, and neither of them have any Slytherin friends- I have a fair few, though, Draco among them."

Narcissa nodded. "So you _would _know Draco. At least when I was in Hogwarts, the Ravenclaws and the Slytherins were very closely associated. I'm quite glad that it's the same today."

Harry carefully redirected the conversation to Gemini. "Anyways, I've never seen Gemini before, and I don't think I saw her Sorted. Does she go to Beauxbatons or Durmstrang?"

"No, no," she frowned. "Gemini went to Beauxbatons her first year. She didn't like it at all, and she transferred to Hogwarts the next year. They don't Sort transfers with the eleven-year-olds, it would feel very embarassing for the transfers. Instead, the transfers get there earlier in the day and are Sorted then. That's how it was with Gemini- she was Sorted into Slytherin."

"Wouldn't Draco have mentoned her, then? He doesn't talk about her at all."

Narcissa paused, and she stopped smiling. "They don't get along very well," she said at last, voice clipped and snappish. "And I think I ought to go see whether Gemini and Lucius are alright." She rose from her seat, long black dress swishing, and offered a strained smile as Harry gawked at her, baffled.

"It's been very nice to meet you," Narcissa's lips tightened even more. "Goodbye, Mr. Potter."

Confused, Harry stared after Narcissa as she left the room, shutting it softly behind her, and wondered what exactly he had done wrong.

* * *

><p>After Narcissa left, a stream of people entered the room and left- mostly young Templars swearing fealty and all that, embarassing Harry utterly. At last, Sirius, disheveled and looking like he hadn't slept in a week, was allowed in with Remus.<p>

"PUP!" He roared, looking every inch a proud father, and Harry felt his heart burn with joy and ache with sadness at once. It hurt that James couldn't be his father. It hurt that James had never been a father to him. It hurt that Sirius was the first person who thought of him as a son, as a true son.

At the same time, he wasn't complaining- Sirius was a caring father, as had been demonstrated by his own two daughters, who seemed to be racing each other in a competition to see who could get to Harry first.

Cassi got there first, her sweet-smelling black hair tickling Harry's face as she hugged him tightly, squeezing his shoulders, and Harry beamed up at the younger girl.

"Hi, guys," he said weakly, unprepared for the onslaught of affection. "Nice to see you."

Remus grinned at Harry. "You too, Harry. Though not so much in a hospital room."

"Yeah," Mireya put in her two cents. "I would've much preferred the library. It's warmer, for one, and there are books. Lots of books. Books make everything better, I've found."

Harry chuckled. "Couldn't agree more. All they have here is _Witch Weekly _magazines and a couple of _Daily Prophet _newspapers, half of which are horribly outdated, and the other half focus on how Fudge is divorcing his wife Olivia for his Senior Undersecretary, a Miss Dolores Umbridge."

"Are you saying you would prefer it if they weren't outdated? And how do you know so much about the- oh my Merlin, you actually _READ _that rag of a magazine!" Cassiopeia scrunched up her nose in disgusted contempt. "You actually read _Witch Weekly_? Which is usually written by Rita Skeeter and her ilk? I thought you had an _informed _political opinion!"

"Hey," Mireya said mildly, picking at her nails.

"_You _read it too? Oh god. Daddy? Daddy?" Cassi tugged on Sirius's sleeve, face filled with genuine horror as Sirius chuckled. "Save me. We have to leave London as soon as possible. Someone has taken over Mireya's body and is making her read _Witch Weekly. And LIKE IT. _It's horrifying."

Mireya rolled her eyes. "Chill, Cassi-o. How else am I gonna get my information? The only alternative newspaper is the _Quibbler_, and while your friend Luna is great and all, and I'm sure her father is a great person, Harry," she addressed the boy in the bed, "it's super weird and it doesn't really talk about anything related to current events, just the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. I'm pretty sure they went extinct ages ago! When you read _Witch Weekly _or _The Daily Prophet_, you not only get the basic facts of the matter, you get the opponent's point of view on the matter. Also-"

"Enough, enough! I give up! I surrender!" Cassiopeia cut her off with a laugh, putting her hands up in the air in a gesture of truce.

Her older sister grinned mischievously back at her, gleefully rubbing her hands together. "You know what that means, don't you, Cassi-o? The loser of an argument with Mireya Black-McKinnon will be sentenced to death by tickling, by whatever ticklish cavities possible."

Harry sniggered at the dawning look of 'oh bloody hell, no' on Cassi's face, and let out a full-blown laugh- and kept on doing so- as Mireya lunged for her younger sibling, grabbing her by the armpits and tickling her. Cassiopeia screamed with laughter, twisting and writhing in her older sister's arms. Next to them, Sirius doubled over in silence, tears of mirth streaming from his eyes as he gasped for breath through the urge to laugh.

Only Remus wasn't laughing.

Harry cast him a questioning glance, then winced. If he hadn't memorized the lunar calender, he would have sworn that Remus was nearing the full moon.

Remus sighed. "My overdramatic children, I love you, but could you please calm the hell down so that we can discuss what we're actually here for? Bigger issues and all that. Remember?"

They sobered immediately, straightening, the laughter gone from their eyes and limbs tensing as they sat down on a pair of chairs. Harry could have smacked Remus. "Do we have to do this now?" He asked in a cold voice.

"Yes, Harry," Remus responded. "When else?"

"Thanks for killing the mood," he grumbled softly, but quieted when Sirius shot him a quelling look. "Okay, okay, fine. Tell me. What's going on out there?"

"The magical media outlets are being fine," Sirius waved a hand to the pile of _Daily Prophet_s resting on the bedside counter. "The leaders of most countries have been informed, as has the Queen. Dumbledore has remained quiet, and your family hasn't said anything to the media, either. Though at home it's a different story."

"How different?" Harry winced.

"Eh, not as bad as I predicted," Remus shrugged. "James and Lily seem to be in shock. Like their brains aren't processing it. They stare off in to the middle distance most of the time, and don't speak until spoken too. Cora is seething, and Cody is also angry, but he's calmed down a lot."

"Okay. So why do we have to talk about it?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes. "There's no problem, right? No harm, no foul."

"You're thirteen, almost fourteen," Remus's face was gentle, his voice soft and sad. "You're unequipped to rule the Wizarding World. You can't heft a world on your shoulder. We need to talk about dealing with that, Harry."

"You mean you want me to designate a regent?"

"Yes."

"But I was just going to appoint Sirius," Harry said, shooting the taller man a smile. "After all, you _are _my godfather."

Sirius looked flattered, but shook his head. "I'm really, really, really glad you said that, pup, but... well, I've been hired to be DADA teacher. No way I can rule the magical world, too. And do it responsibly! I'm a Marauder, have you forgotten that? Within a week the world would have fallen to ruin."

Harry opened his mouth to display a retort, but Sirius interrupted him. "And before you ask about Remus, no. Some pretty good news with this, though- Remus is going to become a Cursebreaker. He applied last spring after Severus Snape told the Slytherins about his... furry little problem." He frowned angrily, muttering under his breath, until Remus elbowed him in the ribs.

"Snape is a good man," Remus lectured, mouth pulled down into a tightfrown. "He thought I was the one attacking the Hogsmeade villagers. He couldn't have known that there was a banshee loose in the woods, could he?

"I could get into a very long argument with you about this, but let's agree to disagree, shall we? He got you fired. But anyways," he turned back to Harry. "Bill Weasley's head of Cursebreaking and he took a liking to Remus in the job interview. He's agreed to vouch for Remus, and Remus has been hired. Work begins in August, if I'm right."

"No way!" Harry gasped. "Congratulations, Remus!"

The werewolf flushed momentarily distracted, then sobered again. "We can discuss that another time, Harry. The point is that you can't appoint me or Sirius- we'll be far too busy, and I agree with Sirius- hiring a Marauder would result in utter mayhem."

Harry sighed. "Well, then. If not Sirius, and not you- Cursebreaking is supposed to be time-consuming- then who am I supposed to appoint?"

"Lily," Sirius said immediately. "She-"

"No. I'm not going to reward _either _of my parents more than I have to," Harry growled. "No. Any other suggestiions?"

Remus shrugged. "I could contact up one of my old Hogwarts friends, Lupe Meadowes. She's a morbimagelogist with a specialty in lycanthropy- so a werewolf scientist. But she is very politically-orientated, and her cousin Dorcas is a Latin American politician. You might have some luck with them, though last I heard Dorcas was in Latin America advocating for the rights of _la Tundas__._ Still, I think that's our best bet."

Sirius raised an eyebrow as he looked down at Remus. "I have no idea where you got that idea, Remus. Try to take Dorcas or Lupe away from their work, and they'll kill you. Especially now. I heard from Dorcas that Lupe was on the edge of a breakthrough with a lycanthropy-prevention vaccine, and Dorcas is concentrating on getting a bill through on the Tunda housing issues. So actually, I think you don't want to call Dorcas or Lupe if you want to survive their wrath."

"I'm sure Lupe will understand-" Remus disagreed.

Sirius cut him off. The edge of his voice was sharper than the edge of a blade, and he stepped toward his husband carefully, looking for all the world a watchful predator. "_I'm _sure you don't remember Lupe and Dorcas as well as I do, Remus-"

"Well, what suggestions do-"

What Remus was about to say was cut off as their light quibbling dissolved into a full-out debate. Harry sat awkwardly in the bed, feeling out of place, as the couple's arguing began to escalate. On the side, Mireya and Cassiopeia looked increasingly exasperated, until Mireya stood up and screamed, "ENOUGH!"

Silence fell. Remus and Sirius both reddened and sat down as Mireya scowled at her parents.

"_I _have an idea," she announced. "Better than calling Lupe or Dorcas Meadowes back from Latin America or dragging Dad away from Cursebreaking. There's a girl I played Gobstones with a couple years ago. She's pretty good- you would like her, Cassi. She might give you a run for your money. Her name is Susan Bones, and she lives with her aunt, Amelia-"

"Wait. Amelia Bones? Head of the DMLE? _That _Amelia Bones?" Harry interrupted, a dawning look of comprehension on his face.

"Yes," Mireya looked pleased. "That Amelia Bones. She's supposed to be very smart, and very focused on the rights of the people, and a taskmaster-"

Harry nodded profusely. "Alright. That's it. Decided."

Remus frowned. "Just like that? You don't even know Amelia Bones, Harry. Are you sure you want to just... make her your regent? Like that? Seems a little hurried to me."

Sirius shook his head, smirking. "Everything is hurried at this point, Remus. And besides, I can affirm what - I knew her during Hogwarts. Especially fifth year. Damn, that girl was flexible..." he sighed.

"_Sirius Black!_" Remus hissed hotly, pressing his lips together tightly and crossing his arms. Sirius looked appropriately chastised and bowed his head.

"Sorry, Rem. I mean, Amelia was a good person. Really focused on politics, very passionate- she was really a fantastic girl and I would think that she was a fantastic woman. I can vouch for her." Sirius ruffled Harry's hair. "Pup's made a good decision. Amelia Bones is a good choi-"

"Excuse me?"

Five heads whipped around, making the speaker, a young man who had poked his head through the door, cower in fear.

"I just... I apologize for interrupting, but there is to be a meeting this evening with the Ministry of Magic and the Templars, and the King is required to join, and he still has not been introduced to the majority of his assistants, and well- he simply needs to leave the hospital now, to prepare himself."

Sirius sighed and turned to Harry, smiling thoughtfully down at his godson. "Alright, Pup. I'll see you soon, won't I?"

Harry beamed up at his godfather. "As soon as possible, Sirius."

The older man bent and pressed a kiss to Harry's cheek, then motioned the young man forward, who obliged, stepping into the room, reverence in his face. Behind the assistant came another clatter of people, even more than all of the Healers, all of them dressed in a pale gray uniform, and all utterly silent, eyes round with awe.

Sirius, Remus, Cassiopeia, and Mireya moved away from Harry's bed, soon slipping away into the crowd of servants as the assistants helped Harry out of bed and into a soft coat lined with pale brown fur. He wrapped it around himself, grateful for the warmth in the crisp hospital air.

The limbs of the assistants upheld Harry's arms as the boy king was ushered through the tide of people from the cold hospital room, to a hallway that felt far colder to his bare feet, down a flight of chilly lineoleum stairs, to a lobby empty save for a gawking secretary, and finally, as the crowd thinned into a small guard of four, into a small black Ministry automobile (a Muggle automobile?)on the curb outside the building.

Looking back at the hospital as the driver started the automobile, he thought perhaps he glimpsed the silhouettes of Sirius and Remus in one of the windows, but then the automobile shot forward and he lost sight of them.


End file.
